


Limes and Coastlines

by Yifanning (Bambitae)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Asthmatic!Kyungsoo, M/M, Slight (inner) homophobia, Swimmer Athlete!Baekhyun, Town Setting, highschool!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11759274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bambitae/pseuds/Yifanning
Summary: Answers submerge when you've faced the eye of the storm—thus, Kyungsoo stood on his toes, nearing the ledge, gazing into the dark, deep end.  Close to pulling back, closer to falling in.





	Limes and Coastlines

 

Anxiety prickled on Kyungsoo’s skin, made the air seem more suffocating than break taking, made his pruned toes curl as they approached the pool’s edge.  One step and he’d plummet into the deep end—where his head could be no higher than nose-level above the water, even on his tippy-toes—practically ending his survival in P.E.  Drowning now sounded about good, though, as P.E class itself was threatening man slaughter.

 

The first figure to finish swimming by the end and back of the pool was Byun Baekhyun, captain of Iwatobi’s swimming team.  He climbed up the ladder and bathed meekly in the class’ and Mr.Cha’s compliments.  Good stamina, good athletic capabilities, good looks, and an extra package of flattery; an asthmatic’s dream.  But dreams are dreams, an idea without reality, the sky so far from the ground.  If the odds ever won, then that would be a miracle—a wonderful misunderstanding.

 

The whistle blew once the batch of students made it back from the end, the panic reeling chime signalling the next to go.  Kyungsoo took in a deep breath, clapped his hands together, bent his knees, and dived.  The water felt like static as it clawed against his body, the eccentric jolts of adrenaline kicked in as he proceeded to front crawl.  Noise beyond the water drowned out, the only sound he heard was the quickening throb of his heart.

 

Kyungsoo was never good with breath control under pressure, let alone under the fatigue of sports, and it did no good that he couldn’t properly gulp in air every stroke to the right.  He’d swallow more water than oxygen. When he made it to the end of the pool, kicked off the wall, and prepared to swim back, he was already out of stamina.  A burning ache spread like wildfire in his legs, the sparks caught in his chest and consumed them, continuing to burn until his whole was ashes, it felt like there was smoke fuming in his lungs. 

 

His flamed lungs ached for oxygen and once provided, in the littlest he could, the searing pain only grew, not even pool water could put it out.  Eventually, he succumbed before being engulfed in the fire and emerged from the water, right in the middle of the pool.

 

His face burnt in embarrassment as everyone swam past while the rest snickered, hell, he’d be flustered enough to boil the pool into a sauna, perhaps he’d be able to disintegrate everyone.  Though, the thought could wait, his oxygen needed to catch up first, coming between sputtering and coughing.

 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mr.Cha silenced the snickering.  “Do, swim to the side wall and get back here.”

 

Kyungsoo dug his nails into his palms, considering flipping the finger underwater and give in, but decided against the idea.  He needed the credit which could only be earned with survival, not surrendering to the beast.  “No, I can keep going.  Thanks for the offer.”  _Or thanks for nothing_.  He took in another breath of air before diving into the water, escaping the faces bent in sneers and the outlier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Good job, everyone, time to clean up the area or I’ll make you swim an extra lap,” Mr.Cha announced, ending the hour of gruelling physical activity, much to Kyungsoo’s relief.

 

He bent down near the pool’s deep end to fish out a ball used for playing water polo.  His breathing ragged, but bearable enough to standby without an inhaler for a meanwhile.

 

“Y’know,” Jongdae drawled, trotting over to Kyungsoo’s side before crouching down with him.  “If you’re caught harassing that ball with the pool noodle instead of cleaning, Cha’ll make ya’ swim a lap.  We all know how that’ll be, amirite’?”

 

“It’s not harassment and I know what I’m doing.  The ball will come to me one day,” Kyungsoo snapped.  “ _Y’know_ ,” he mimicked Jongdae’s signature conversation opening—although, it closed more conversations than started—all rights reserved, “If Cha finds you escaping clean up duties by hitting me up with an idle chat we’ll both be swimming a lap, but you’ll end up a victim of drowning.”

 

“Yikes, you’re really annoyed today,” Jongdae remarked with a click of his tongue and stood up.  “Talk to me later once you’ve cooled off and whiffed the puffer.”

 

“I’m fine,” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes.

 

“If fine means sounding like my grandpa after running a few blocks, minus the excessive profanity, then I must be on the top of the mental health pyramid,” Jongdae waved him off before pretending to pick up lifejackets as Mr.Cha walked by, instantly dropping them when the teacher dismissed suspicion.  “Yet, again, talk to me later when you have less the urge to hurt my feelings.”

 

Another set of rolled eyes could only do so much, isolating himself under pastel skies instead of the natatorium’s azure roofing glazed with the pool’s reflective glare was not one of them.  He would like to think more of being surrounded by baby blue and less of the imaginary glass encasement trapping him in the waters of chlorine.   A deep breath after another could break through the glass, replacing the wild waves with calm tides.

 

The practice calmed him down, but relief was short lived as an abrupt force pushed him off the pool’s ledge and into the deep end.  The aftermath of surprise made him take in a breath expecting air, but he was met with the water stinging his nostrils, the burning in his throat, and a tsunami of panic.

 

Clangs of panic were not good as it did just as much damage physical activities would.  He rushed to emerge from the water.  Despite plugged ears and heavy breathing, the orchestra of laughter preformed their thunderous coda.  He grasped another breath before supporting himself on the pool’s edge, he lifted his head up to glare at the conductor; Byun Baekhyun.

 

“Nice one, captain,” Sehun smirked with a bundle a pool noodles tucked under his arm.  He clapped Baekhyun’s shoulder before scampering away.

 

“You,” Kyungsoo snarled once climbed onto the tiled flooring.  His breathing was all over the place and the fuming anger worsened his condition, it was an achievement to produce proper sentences.  “What the hell was that for?!”

 

If it weren’t for Mr.Cha’s intervention, Kyungsoo wouldn’t hesitate to knock the living daylights out of Baekhyun. 

 

“What is going on here?”  Mr.Cha demanded, foot tapping against the wet tiles.

 

Kyungsoo pointed at Baekhyun before facing the teacher.  “He shoved me into the pool!”

 

“I-It was an accident!”  Baekhyun claimed, eyes narrowed at the finger outstretched towards him, “I was getting the float boards and returning them, but then I—“

 

“Then you thought it would be a fun prank to push me in without notice!”  Kyungsoo interrupted him, retracting his arm so he could cross them.

 

“It was an accident,” Baekhyun enunciated each word as if they’d fly above Kyungsoo’s head if he didn’t.  “Even if it were for fun, you got out.  I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.”

 

“Are you really that much of an—“

 

“That’s enough, Do.  Just get changed,” Mr.Cha instructed, “Byun, I need to talk to you.”

 

Kyungsoo sighed and shot one last glare towards Baekhyun before heading to the change room.  He contemplated the worth of P.E’s credit—he could take extra credit classes, but he just had to enter something equivalent to _The Hunger Games_ —while rummaging through his duffle bag for his inhaler.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Unbelievable, honestly, who does he think he is?!”  Kyungsoo fumed to Jongin.  “Me and my asthmatic ass—“

 

“Language, buddy,” Jongdae chided as he slotted him and his lunch tray beside in between them, like the middle man he was.  “We’re on school property, there are children here, like Jongin for example.”

 

Jongin pouted, glaring knives down Jongdae’s side but said no more.

 

Kyungsoo continued after huffing, “—are just trying to get through P.E.  I already embarrassed myself during warmups and he has the decency to poke fun and push me in?  Doesn’t he know what that could do to me?”  He snapped his head up after feeling the tap on his hand.  “What?”

 

“You’re crushing it,” Jongin pointed out, “Your sandwich, it’s crushed.”

 

“Oh,” Kyungsoo murmured, staring at his mushed, heap of lunch.  He released his death grip on the sandwich and wiped it back into his lunch bag, thanking Jongin for the spare napkin.  “I’ve lost my appetite, anyway.”

 

“I don’t really blame him, I mean, you don’t go around telling people you’ve got bad lungs.”

 

“And a short fuse,” Jongdae chimed in, simpering under Kyungsoo’s glare.

 

“I’m not the best of swimmers, clearly.  That stuff’s obvious to me, obvious to Jongdae, hell, obvious to everyone in P.E,” Kyungsoo muttered.  “Should’ve been obvious to Byun, too.”

 

“Here, my child, let the Capri Sun absorb your anger,” Jongdae advised before chucking him the juice packet. 

 

Kyungsoo reluctantly accepted it, stabbing the straw through the packet before taking a profuse sip.

 

“Could you not drink with your pinky up?  Personally, I’m bothered.”

 

“Remain bothered,” Kyungsoo retorted, then raised his pinky higher, much to Jongdae’s dismay.

 

“Okay, if you dislike him so much, why not get payback?”  Jongdae suggested, “Push him into the deep end.  Wouldn’t you like to ravish the feeling of revenge?”

 

“No, I like to keep my hatred subtle, glares, silent treatment, whispering behind the back, all that stuff.  Let him know I hold an undying grudge even after grad,” Kyungsoo said.  “Besides, why would I push him into a pool?  He’s the captain of our school’s swim team, that’s like asking me to throw a bird into the sky.”

 

“Unless we tape the bird’s wings, only then would it be devoured by the chasms,” Jongin piped in, grinning as the two stared at him bewildered.  “What?  Surprised that the poetry club changed me?”

 

“Please, you only go there for Soojung,” Jongdae snorted, “She’s way out of your lead; a cheerleader with weird hobbies.  Do you know she stress knits?”

 

Kyungsoo arched an eyebrow at him.

 

“Glad you asked,” Jongdae smirked.

 

“We didn’t,” said Kyungsoo and Jongin in unison.

 

“Too bad. Last year, during exam week, I found her aggressively knitting behind the bleachers on the football field.  Damn, girl got lightning hands, shawty ain’t got nothing on her.  I promised not to tell anyone in exchange for the blanket she was knitting.  I still have it up to this day, it’s nice.  Soft.  Cashmere.”

 

“But catching up to her pace, I have achieved,” Jongin declared while pushing towards his phone with said girl’s number.  Her contact name read ‘ _Krystal_ _☆_ ’

 

“Holy mother of—“ Jongdae’s interrupted by Kyungsoo’s sudden burst of laughter and congratulations, rolling his eyes as the ten-dollar bill, right from his pocket, slapped onto Kyungsoo's palm made his laughter more boisterous.

 

“That’s another five bucks, they’ve already moved onto the weird pet name stage,” Kyungsoo beckoned, receiving another pair of rolled eyes and a five-dollar bill.

 

“Wait, you guys made a bet on me?”  Jongin asked, lost, eyes drooping.

 

“Hey, I was the one who believed in you,” Kyungsoo grinned before high-giving Jongin.  “Back to the topic.  Look, I’m gonna’ say it.”

 

“Yes child, do say it.” Jongdae drawled before stuffing his mouth with garden salad, he was never one to eat salads, let alone eat healthy at all, but the man was on a mission to impress a person whom’st name would never leave the tip of his tongue no matter how much they pried.

 

“Byun's annoying, he drops his trumpet's mouthpiece in music class every time, it's so loud I swear to god—I'm so close to loosing my hearing.  And after that stupid stunt, I flat out hate him, not enough to commit murder, though.”

 

“I wouldn’t try it, either,” Jongin said, “He’s got his fangirls and the whole swim team on his side—big chunks of muscle.”

 

“In the land where gender equality is amazing, I could underestimate them, but I won’t.  Mama taught her son right.”  Kyungsoo scoffed, “But what’s the worse his swim team can do?  Send Chanyeol to intimidate me with his height?  They’re swimmers, not weightlifters.”

 

“Their calves say otherwise, damn, swimming really tones them.”

 

A moment of silence, Jongdae and Kyungsoo shoot Jongin a questionable look.

 

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fetish-free, I swear,” Jongin defended with raised hands.  “I just know danger when I see it, I can sense it, my wolf gene howls it out to me.  That’s why I hang out with you guys.”

 

“I take that to offence,” Jongdae squawked. 

 

“Pilates can only take you so far,” Kyungsoo quipped.

 

“Anyway,” Jongin continued, “I stand by my belief that the whole swim team can drop kick you into the earth’s core.”

 

“At least there won’t be capitalism in hell.”

 

“The president of hell, mighty ol’ Satan himself, says hi.”

 

“Gordaite,’ Satan.”

 

“I wasn’t suggesting murder, okay?”  Jongdae said.  “If I were you, it’d be a grand prank,” a kittenish smile cut into his cheeks.  “I’ve got connections, y’know, on the streets and stuff.  Need something done quick?  Just hit me up.”

 

“Jongdae could actually be a wanted criminal and I still wouldn’t be surprise,” Jongin commented, the trio nodded in sync. 

 

“Jongdae, some of us actually want to graduate, get in a good university, and get a job,” Kyungsoo deadpanned before crumpling the empty Capri sun packet into a ball.

 

Jongdae hummed in amusement.  “Whatever, your loss,” he shrugged.

 

“Nope, I haven’t lost anything yet,” Kyungsoo smirked, bent his arm, and shot the ball into his lunch bag.

 

 

 

 

 

“Take it easy on the bike, try not to die,” Jongin smiled while waving a goodbye.

 

“Or fall down and break your leg to have an exit card for P.E.  That’s good, too,” Jongdae grinned, saluted a soldier’s goodbye, and hopped off the set of the school’s steps.

 

“Mr.Cha is already going easy on me, I think I can handle P.E from there,” Kyungsoo groused as he detached his bicycle from the bike rails. 

 

“Oh, and tell your mom that my mom’s sister’s friend said thanks for the foot cream,” Jongin requested.

 

“Tell your mom I said _‘What’s cookin’, good lookin?’_ ”  Jongdae added.

 

“Jongin, will do.  Jongdae, you’re gross.”  Kyungsoo saddled onto his bicycle, adjusted the straps on his backpack, pedalled away from Jongdae’s obnoxious giggling, and steered onto the road.

 

He paused his pedalling once arriving at a certain patch of abundant shrubs and trees.  Hopping back onto the concrete, he guided his bike into the small opening guarded by aberrant branches—the local kids called them _‘The Witch’s claws’_ solely due to mother nature’s uncanny gift of evil trees and bushes; the branches were sharp enough to leave any wanderer scraped and bruises—through the wooden castle’s only weak spot, where the flora grew scattered instead of clumped, Kyungsoo followed the narrow path with his bicycle hugged against his side.

 

The leaves laced with gold, caramel, and ruby crunched under his shoes.  It irked him to how crowded the path was, always did, as the razor-edged branches raked against his ankles and shoulders.  If nature had the power to move, then this trap would be akin to an iron maiden.  _Although, in this case, it’s a wooden maiden._

 

Once reaching the end of the nightmare, Kyungsoo got back on his bicycle while embracing the sweetness of fresh air and a larger, less threatening surrounding.  He rode around the playground built on the territory of a chartreuse field plagued by wild dandelion, and peddled south onto an empty road.

 

Riding down the hill leading to the town’s beach, Kyungsoo skidded in attempt to avoid nearly crashing into a stationary group of girls.  He grumbled once regaining control before looking to the side to see what they were awing at.  In front of the waves emitting glaring crystals under the gleaming sun, a guy crouched by the coast’s rocks, not paying any mind to the flock trying to snipe his attention.

 

Kyungsoo shrugged it off and continued his way before stopping near the entrance of a bakery.  After locking his bike near the bike rails, he entered the shop, letting the mouth-watering aroma of apple cinnamon and coffee waft into his nostrils.

 

_Do’s Pastries_ was a homie place; orange curtains draped over the windows to light the place with a natural, soft tangerine hue during the day.  The tables were clad with floral tablecloths, paintings of idealism adorned the walls with ponder, and soft jazz would waltz out of the jukebox stationed at the corner.

 

The regulars paid no mind to his entrance chiming the bells above the door, shattering the later of silence as they were on familiar terms with him, some even waved a greeting which he returned.  Knees bent, he navigated, peering through the class casing that displayed myriad of pastries and puddings.  His attention lifted from the strawberry shortcake to the smiling figure gracing his point of view.

 

“What can I do for you, short stuff?”  Subin asked while resting her elbow atop the glass, propping her chin onto her palm after.  Normally, she’d refuse to slack beyond straight posture, but she would around Kyungsoo and that filled him with pride.

 

“I dunno’.  What can you do for me?”  He grinned, arching a brow as she clapped her hands together.

 

“Lucky for you, there is something specific I had in mind.  We’re trying out macarons.  Care for a sample?”  She chuckled at his vigorous nod before disappearing at the back and returning with a pink macaron on a plate.  “Strawberry, thought you might like it.”

 

“Actually, I’m more of a vanilla person.”

 

“The flavour of everything plain,” she teased, “Don’t they sell candles named _‘Vanilla of Death’_ at the goth department?”

 

“Hey, it’s a great flavour!—simple but exquisite.  You should try tasting a real flavour for once.”

 

“Okay, maybe I’ll try it once just for you,” she smiled, wide; the kind he liked, a lot. 

 

“Follow my path, it’s a good one.”  Kyungsoo tittered, eyeing the pastry after peeling it off the plate.  “But you did take the effort to make and bring this over, so I’ll make an exception.”  He took a bite, humming as it melted in his mouth.  “Delicious.”

 

“Better be.  Those suckers are a pain to mass bake,” Subin divulged.  “Anyway, your mom’s violently beating eggs in the kitchen.”

 

“Last blind date didn’t go well?”

 

“Jesus, when do they ever?  I don’t think she needs a man, she’s already got you, yeah?”

 

“When she grows old I can’t necessarily grow old with her.  What she needs is a good recommendation, not a stupid dating app.”

 

“Well, do you know any single men in their late forties willing to date?”  She snorted as he answered with a grimace meaning, ‘ _Hell, no’._   “Do you want me to get her?”  She headed off once receiving a nod.

 

“Remember to pour milk in between stirs!”  His mother shouted back as she walked to the front, taking Subin’s place.  Once facing Kyungsoo, she smiled, the crinkles of her eyes easing into the lines of age.  “Hey, honey, how was school?”

 

Kyungsoo sucked in a sharp intake of breath.  “It was good.”

 

His mother raised a brow at him, she didn’t buy it, never did.  “Any news I should hear about?”

 

“Nope, nothing at all.”  Lying about a personal issue was useless, telling her was more so.  He tried to find a crack within her piercing gaze, a way out, but the brick wall her suspicion brought was impossible to escape.  “Anyway, uh, Jongin told me to tell you that his mom’s… something’s something said thanks for the foot cream.  Jongdae says _‘What’s cookin’, good lookin’?_ ”

 

“Tell Jongin that I’m glad his mom’s sister’s friend found the cream useful.  Tell Jongdae that I’m doing well, but cheesecake can’t be bought with cheesier pickup lines.”

 

“He’ll keep on trying until he gets some,” Kyungsoo remarked, “The next time he tries I’ll just tell him to get a part-time job.”

 

“You better, but not here.  The boy can barely put together a sandwich for his own good will.”  Kyungsoo snorted at that.  “Oh, I’ve got new news!  In a week or so, a friend of mine is going to be released from the hospital.  I want to throw a surprise birthday party for her.”

 

“And you tell me this in hopes of my gracious support?”  His grin stretched as she roller her eyes.  “Yeah, sure, I’m willing.  Depends on what I’m doing, though.  Decorating?  Probably not if you’d like the party festive, but baking or cooking?  I can accomplish those.”

 

“Of course, you can!  You’re my son,” she said.  “Her son is going to help us.  So, I expect good behaviour around him, try to make friends, too.”

 

I’m polite, always!”  Kyungsoo defended.  “it’s just that Jongdae is an epidemic that infects everyone that knows him.  As scary as it is to believe, we all have a little Jongdae in us.  I’ve already got my good share of friends, anyway.”

 

“Does living with Jongdae and Jongin for the rest of your life sound good to you?”

 

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to say yes, but the sudden thought of Jongdae’s tale telling of dirty jokes as they sit in wheelchairs, old and wrinkly, plus the responsibility of taking care for lieutenant colonel Jongin’s battalion of dogs clamped his mouth back shut.

 

 

“That’s what I thought,” she hummed, smug, before writing down an address on paper.  “Get here right after school.  I’ll be there and so will he, but I heard he’s a busy athlete so maybe a little later.”

 

Kyungsoo grumbled as he accepted the slip of paper and shoved it into his pocket.

 

“Don’t be like that, trust, he’s a really bright and likeable kid.  Besides Subin and I, you need another good influence.  Who knows, maybe you’ll turn out to really like him.”

 

“We’ll see about that,” he sighed before leaning against the counter.  “Can I get a slice of lemon meringue?”

 

A fond smile pushed his mother’s plump cheeks up, radiant as they were dipped with a peach flush.  The tangerine light flooded in, washing the room with a calm breeze that came like an ocean’s wave; a drifting feeling, almost like a dream.  “Coming right up!”

 

 

 

 

 

02

 

The apartment’s address wasn’t far—it was built near the beach—and Kyungsoo bicycled there after school.  On the door, there left a note; “On the roof doing laundry!!^^” He clambered up the flight of stairs, taking a breather and heaving at the buzzing pain in his calves alongside the dry ache in his lungs, before opening the door to the rooftop.

 

Clothing wire, adorned by garments and secured by pins, tied around the corner poles, criss-crossed and laced in arrays, creating a maze of sort.  Kyungsoo maneuvered through the fabricated labyrinth but found himself lost, his shallow breath overshadowed by the garments waltzing with the ocean breeze, but once the humming of a tune so familiar, yet so foreign, chimed throughout, Kyungsoo’s heard nothing but it.  In an instance the wind stopped as did the humming, the hung garments stilled.

 

The white sheets lowered their guards, unlocking a path with a figure at the end attending to drying laundry.  Kyungsoo walked down the path, approaching the person—presence prominent.  “Hey, excuse me, are you—“

 

The words died in his throat as the boy turned, revealing himself.  Kyungsoo felt shock—they both did, evident as the shirt in Baekhyun’s grasp slipped and fell back into the basket—then annoyance, and lastly anger.

 

“K-Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun’s eyes widened as he took a step back, retreating into the canopy of hung blankets.  The ocean breeze returned, causing the blankets to flitter around Baekhyun, protecting.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“I would say the same to you.”  Baekhyun’s voice was enough to bring back Kyungsoo’s bubbling hatred from yesterday’s pool incident, only now his anger turned from bubbling to boiling.  He felt the sting of his nails digging into his palms.  “But the answer’s obvious that you live here, though, I really wish you didn’t.”

 

Baekhyun stood there in silence, eyes downcast to the ground, hands laid by his side—or were they shaking?  Kyungsoo could care less. 

 

“I don’t get it,” Kyungsoo exclaimed, words a pace ahead from reasoning.  “How can you have the privilege to be proud, to be stronger than me, but not use it spit anything back? 

 

Baekhyun’s hands clenched by his side, eyes lilting from the ground to stare at Kyungsoo.  Kyungsoo feet stuck to the floor, shoulders stiff, completely frozen upon Baekhyun’s gaze—not a glare as he’d expect.  The silence persisted until Baekhyun muttered, “Who said I wanted to?”

 

The buzzing, preppy tune of _‘Bubble Pop!’_ ran, Kyungsoo dug into his pocket to pick up the call.  “Hello?”

 

“Kyungsoo!  I just got here, where are you?”  His mother’s voice spoke through the speaker.

 

“Yeah, I’m just on the balcony with him.  I’ll be down.”

 

“Hurry up, mama can’t wait forever.”

 

“She won’t.”

 

Kyungsoo hung up, sighing, and slipped his phone back into his pocket, Baekhyun’s stare dropped and he felt thawed out.  “Let me make things clear,” he began, “Whatever happens here, whatever that’s said and whatever is done, it all means nothing when after this week and we get it over with.  I don’t have intentions of becoming friends with you, less so working, but it’s just how it is.  Got it?”  With that, he treaded through the riled garments, extra footsteps trailed behind.

 

 

 

 

 

“There you two are!”  Kyungsoo’s mother beamed as they entered the apartment room.  “Kyungsoo, meet Baekhyun.  Baekhyun, meet my son—“

 

“It’s okay mom,” Kyungsoo smiled a grimace, hoping his mother wouldn’t notice the corners twitching.  “We already know each other from school.”

 

“Good!  Then this’ll be easier than I thought.  Baekhyun, what kind of cake does your mom like?”

 

Baekhyun’s eyes flickered from the ground at the call of his name.  “Uhm… sponge cake?  She likes strawberries, too.”

 

“We’ll just make her a strawberry sponge cake, then,” she decided, her excitement was so bright Kyungsoo had to squint.  “I think you two should make the cake.  It would be meaningful for Baekhyun to bake his mom’s cake and for Kyungsoo to get more practice.  I’ll do decoration.”

 

Kyungsoo gawked, “But, mom, he has no baking experience,” he turned his head to him, “Right?”

 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun stuttered, shifting in place.

 

“See!  He could ruin everything,” Kyungsoo exclaimed.  “It’d be safer if he’d bake with you.”

 

“Calm down, no need to get riled up, try being more optimistic and believe in your partner, yeah?”  She chided, scowl faded and reversed into a smile as she turned her attention to Baekhyun.  “Don’t mind him, he’s just worried because he hasn’t baked anything as simple as sponge cake.”

 

“Have, too!”  He grumbled as Baekhyun’s faint giggling battered against the back of his head.  His mother mirrored his crossed arms, only difference was that her’s was more dominant, more imposing—it was a war lost, a surrender to concede to.  “Okay… fine,” he sighed, “I’ll do my best…”

 

She raised a brow, expectant, such gesture pulled another sigh from his lips.

 

“And put in my all co-operating with him…”

 

“That’s more like it,” she clapped her hands together and lead them to the kitchen, “I brought some supplied from the bakery, use those.  I’ll be around decorative planning so holler if you need help.”

 

After they were ushered into the kitchen, Kyungsoo went straight to business with the ingredients.  “How big would your mom like the cake?”

 

“Not too big,” Baekhyun answered, his eyes following Kyungsoo’s hands as they rummaged through the bag of ingredients.  “She doesn’t like overwhelming things.”

 

“Right,” Kyungsoo nodded curtly, taking a step away from him whenever he felt the latter was getting too close.   “This party going to be more of a quiet get together, great.”

 

Baekhyun’s lips creased into a tight smile.  “I guess so,” he mumbled while following Kyungsoo to the stove, watching with scrunched brows as he struggled to turn the rain hood’s fan on.  “…What are you doing?”

 

“Trying to turn this on, what does it look like?”  Kyungsoo grunted as he pushed the button.  “Damn fan won’t activate.”

 

“You wiggle it,” Baekhyun instructed with an impatient frown; a new face, even if he’d expected and anticipated such reaction Kyungsoo reckoned he’d do without it.

 

Regardless, he complied and wiggled the button, emitting a nose of surprise as the fan began to whirr.  He dropped his head to take a breather before snapping it back to Baekhyun.  “There, happy?”

 

“Sure,” Baekhyun folded his arms, bringing them close to his chest.  “But I wasn’t asking why you were turning on the fan.  I’m asking why you’re using a stove.  We’re baking sponge cake, right?”

 

Kyungsoo bit the inside of his cheek, embarrassed, he felt his nails dig into the stove’s metal surface before succumbing to defeat and flicking the fan off.  “Right.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“How’s the cake going, boys?”  Kyungsoo’s mom called from the dining room.

 

“Haven’t set the apartment complex on fire yet, I think we’re doing good,” Kyungsoo called back before lecturing Baekhyun, “No!  Don’t sift it like that.  Slow down, you’re going to get sugar everywhere.  Do you want house ants?”

 

“But you told me to sift the sugar like that!”  Baekhyun retorted, “Besides, we’re a few floors off the ground and I doubt the ants can sense sugar from here.”

 

“Don’t underestimate mother nature!”

 

“Doesn’t sound like progress to me.  Goodness, Kyungsoo, you said you’d be polite,” she continued, her words make their muscles stiffen—easy to crush two birds with one rock.  “Is there something going on between you two?”

 

“No,” Kyungsoo answered first, Baekhyun shook his head second.  “Nothing’s going on—just, y’know, friendly rivalry and all.”  He turned and smiled tooth-rotting sweet at Baekhyun, then gritted, “Right?”

 

“Uh,” Baekhyun sputtered, voice small under Kyungsoo’s gaze.  “Right.”

 

She narrowed her skeptic eyes at them.  Silence drowned the room, the sifting of the sugar shuffling in the strainer filled the large gap expecting words.  “Alright,” she said, returning her gaze back to her pen and papers.  “Baekhyun?”

 

“Yeah?”  The call of his name made him spring up from place.

 

“How’s your swimming going?”

 

“I guess I’m doing good.  We’re training for the ‘ _Gold Guppy’_ , a huge tournament for high school swimming teams across the region.  The best we’ve gotten is silver, though,” he admitted while tugging the strands of hair at the back of his head.  “But this year we’re planning on winning gold.”

 

“Planning or affirmative?”  She teased, lifting her eyes from her papers to Baekhyun once more, the gaze felt less hot against their skin.

 

Kyungsoo waited for a meek response that would make his eyes roll so far up his skull he’d get whiplash.  Baekhyun’s sudden grin caught him off guard, such smile didn’t make his temple throb, instead, gave him a lightheaded feeling.

 

Byun Baekhyun was more than new fuel for Kyungsoo’s hatred, Jongin was right, he was a _threat_.

 

“Affirmative on victory, Mrs.Do,” Baekhyun nodded, chuckling as she cooed at his confidence.  “We’ve got a medley relay against a few schools tomorrow, actually.”

 

“Is it public?”  She asked.

 

“I think so?  Why do you—“

 

“Good!”  She cheered.  Kyungsoo would be happy for her happiness alone, t’was his mother after all, but her sugar rush made his stomach queasy.  “Kyungsoo could come along and cheer you on!”

 

“Uhm,” Baekhyun began, “I’m not sure about th—“

 

“Absolutely not!”  Kyungsoo cut in, faltering through his last word at the realization of his blaring volume.  “I mean… I’m busy!”

 

“Busy doing what?”  His mother asked.  “Wrestling with Jongin and Jongdae at the park?”

 

“We’re not seven anymore.”  Kyungsoo crossed his arms and bounced his weight on one leg.  “I’ve got a proj—wait, no, assignment!  Yeah, I’ve got an assignment to do.  Book report.  Not sure if I can make it to his medley—whatever.”

 

“Then just take your stuff and work on it there.  It’s only a small swimming meet, won’t take long,” she persisted after Kyungsoo’s groan, “This is a suggestion, Kyungsoo.  Don’t make me turn it into a demand.”

 

“That makes no sense,” he murmured under his breath, any louder and he’d have to fend his mother’s wrath at home, but complied, “Okay, fine, I’ll go to Baekhyun’s thing.”

 

“Good choice, I expect you to have fun.”

 

Nodding, he turned his head to Baekhyun.  Upon eye contact, the latter was quick to break it, turning away even.  Another sigh escaped Kyungsoo’s lips, another one of the anticipated many.

 

 

 

 

 

 

03

 

“Ya’ screwed up, mate, ya’ screwed up!”  Jongdae cackled while banging his fist against the desk, head thrown back.  “First, pool incident, then coincidental partnership!  What’s next?  Fall in lo—“

 

Kyungsoo’s punch against his shoulder minimized him to giddy whimpers.  “Thank god that I spared your mouth,” he glowered.  “And don’t mention any of that… stuff.  It’s weird.”  Jongdae’s lips curled into a frown at that, causing Kyungsoo to backtrack.  “Hey, dude, did I cross some line?”

 

“Nah, don’t worry, It’s nothing, I’m fine,” Jongdae waved him off.

 

There was something going on, Kyungsoo thought, maybe he should’ve apologized.

 

Jongdae’s lips rose back to a simper.  “But you won’t be once Baekhyun is eight inches’ up your—!”

 

Screw apologies.  Kyungsoo punched him again, silencing him.  “I hope that punch on your bruise forms another bruise.”

 

“Jongdae, for the sake of keeping your most important trait—“

 

“The only useful trait,” Kyungsoo scoffed.

 

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” Jongin finished as he leaned against his chair, tilting a safe distance off the ground.  “Your mom never mentioned anything about him before you got there?  Weird, sounds like she really planned it out.”

 

“Planned or not, after the welcome back party I’ll go back to not associating or talking to him,” Kyungsoo said while pressing the back of his pen against his chin.  “Although, my mom expects me to be friends with the loaf.”

 

“Just don’t talk about him and if she asks how things are then just lie,” Jongdae suggested.

 

“I can’t.  I already lied once, more and she’ll find out.”

 

“Tell her you don’t like him and want to back out, easy as that.  I don’t see any problem with that.”

 

“Yet, again, I can’t.  Byun’s the son of my mom’s close friend who’s departing from the hospital soon.  She’s the whole reason we’re throwing this party,” Kyungsoo explained, “I might dislike him but there’s no reason to dislike his mom.”

 

Jongdae shrugged, not much more could be suggested.  “How did she get there in the first place?”

 

“Heard from one of Soojung’s friends that she’s crazy, like, psychopath kind of crazy,” Jongin said, “One day she freaked out, the next she ended up in the hospital.”

 

“Ouch, kinda’ feel bad for fish blood, now.”

 

“Pitying him won’t change my dislike,” Kyungsoo muttered as he chucked his pen onto the desk decorated with dents and scratches of age.  “In the end, all we can do is feel bad.  It’s a shame.”

 

The teacher entered the classroom with a shout of authority, causing the waterfall of murmuring students to wash down the drain as they scramble to their seats.  All white noise to Kyungsoo, his attention still trained onto the pen as it rolled off the edge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After school, Kyungsoo bicycled to the bakery, climbed the spiralling metal staircase at the back passed the kitchen, and entered his room which was located at front, right above the sign with scribbled font and the hung baskets of lilacs with vines sprawling down from their baleen bearing.

 

After he tossed his backpack to the corner of his room and placed its absence with a nag containing a camera with the addition of his inhaler, he headed back down prepared to blast out the front door if it weren’t for Subin’s question bringing him to a red light; “Where are you going, shorts stuff?”

 

Kyungsoo spun around on his heels, tilted his body to the side to catch any glimpses of his mother past Subin’s tall stature, she was not in sight.  Relieved, he answered, “Heading out to a swim meet.”

 

“You?  Swimming?”

 

“Hell, no, ‘course not.  Someone else’s swim meet,” was the most he could explain.

 

“In that much of a rush to not give me your daily complain of what’s ruining your life?”  She perked her head to the side, a soft smile tugging at her cherry lips, such gesture was gentle, albeit the culprit to the burst in his chest, a constricting feeling.

 

“Sorry, maybe I’ll do double talks next time?”  He offered with a smile, all while fiddling with the leather strap of the camera’s bag that rubbed uncomfortably against the warm skin of his nape.

 

“I’d never fancy swimming meets to be exciting, but I’d like that,” she smiled; wide and pearly, the kind he liked, the green signal for him to go.

 

With a breathed ‘ _thanks’_ , he bolted out the door and down the sidewalk.  Running wasn’t ideal; a bear trap that’d snag his lungs, but the moment’s adrenaline—or the thorns coiled in chest, maybe both—caught him and snaked his body across the concrete, it’s grasp bellowing louder with every step.  After all, his mother would do much worse if he were late to catch the bus.

 

Damn Byun Baekhyun and his damned, early tournament.  What swimming competition between schools would start _right_ after school?

 

As he met up with Baekhyun at the designated bus stop, he was heaving for breath over his knees.  In a quick movement, he retrieved his inhaler out of the bag and slotted it between his lips, taking in a deep breath for the medicine to sooth the burn in his throat and chest.  When he lifted his head up, he met Baekhyun’s wide eyes gazing upon him.

 

“Where’s your other teammates?”  Kyungsoo asked with battered breath, wiping his mouth with his sleeves before standing up.  “Did they ditch you or are you a one-man army?”

 

“They went on the last bus that came,” Baekhyun said, lips pursed, his eyes lingering on Kyungsoo’s face before traveling south, stopping at the bag before tearing away.

 

“So, Byun… you waited for me?”  The question caused Baekhyun to shift in place.  “Why?”

 

“Without me, you wouldn’t know the address of the place,” Baekhyun defended before settling onto the seat inside the bus stop’s shelter.  He hauled his duffle bag off the other seat and hugged it close to his chest.  “It’s Baekhyun, by the way, just Baekhyun.”

 

Kyungsoo chose to stand.  “Okay, thanks.”  Thanking Baekhyun didn’t feel right, left his tongue with a sour aftermath.  “And I’ll call you whatever I want.”

 

Baekhyun frowned but didn’t bite back.  His eyes climbed up from the ground and returned to Kyungsoo’s bag.  A beat, then two of hesitation.  “What’s the bag for?  Your assignment?”

 

“No,” Kyungsoo scoffed, “Just needed an excuse not to come, but now that I am I needa’ bring this camera to film the tournament for my mom.  She wanted to go but the bakery is more important, and it’s proof that I did go.”

 

“Right…”  Baekhyun muttered, his chin propped atop the duffle bag.

 

“Right,” Kyungsoo found himself absentmindedly nodding.  “Okay, we need to stop this ‘ _Right, Right’_ thing.  I’m not a fan of love story clichés.”

 

A small smile arose on Baekhyun’s lips.  “Relatable.  I’m not much a fan for _John Green’s_ works, either.”

 

The screech of the bus pulling up by the curb disturbed the drift of silence, Kyungsoo was relieved for that, and they clambered onto the vehicle.  The bus was mostly vacant; the few passengers consistent of elderly ladies with bountiful of groceries and business men checking their watches with lines creasing their foreheads.  Kyungsoo managed to snatch a seat farthest away from Baekhyun.  The tires revived and screeched, the bus rumbled, Kyungsoo peered into the window, its world passing by as blurs splattered on a canvas of blue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The tournament was held in a community centre.  Entering the indoor fish bowl made Kyungsoo cringe, the natatorium reeked of chlorine, a scent he wasn’t on good terms with.  It wasn't as empty compared to Kyungsoo's expectations.

 

The chairs laid at the sides of the room were moderately filled with parental spectators.  Slotting his outlier self into a seat amongst the majority didn't sink well, he was torn between finding a seat or walk aimlessly around the room as if wanting to swim despite the lack of attire, so for the meanwhile he trailed behind Baekhyun.

 

"There's our big, little leader!"  Chanyeol shouted, almost bellowing, so his voice could reach them walking along the other end of the pool.  He hauled his arm back and fourth as some sort of dangly wave, to Kyungsoo, he looked like an airdancer balloon.  "And his extra frien—wait, the asthmatic dude from P.E?"  Chanyeol narrowed his eyes at Kyungsoo, steering his gaze starboard to Baekhyun, then sailing port to Kyungsoo again.  "Whats'he doin' here?"

 

Kyungsoo furrowed his brows, tightened the grip on his camera bag's strap and felt the burn of the leather digging into his skin.  "Wait, how do you know...?"

 

"It's not hard to tell since you whip that puffer out every P.E class," Chanyeol admitted with a shrug, a bit surprising for Kyungsoo as he thought he kept that all discreet.  Guess not.  "'Sides, after what happened last time, Mr.Cha gave us a mini lecture."

 

"I can't believe I was the only one that didn't know about it," Baekhyun whined as he rubbed his face with his hands, letting them slide past his cheeks, then patting them.  "I'm gonna' go change.  Run some introductions or warm up, just don't drown yourself or anything," he scuffled—giggling at Chanyeol’s' _'That was only one time!'_ —to the change room after having said that.

 

"We don't refer to people by their illnesses, Chanyeol," Junmyeon chastised while walking over to the giant's side, height difference a bit distinct.  "Nice to see you, Kyungsoo, although it's weird seeing you here."

 

"It's weird seeing myself here, too, honestly."  Kyungsoo was familiar with Junmyeon, senior, class president for many years in a row, never knew he was part of the swimming team, huh, the more you know.  At least there was a redeemable factor in the lofty bunch.  He chuckled, "But it's a long story, like, a really long one."

 

"Well, hopefully, you'll stick around to tell it unless swimming is more your forte," Junmyeon jested, smiling prouder as Chanyeol forcefully—Junmyeon didn't notice—laughed along.

 

"Yo, yo, yo," another person joined in while fixing the man bun tied atop his head.  Once finished, he let his hands rest on his hips, loose strands poked out, resting unbothered against his forehead.  "What's up?"

 

"The sky," both Chanyeol and the guy say in sync, albeit, Chanyeol was quicker to yell 'Jinx!'.

 

"Under roof!"

 

Chanyeol presented his crossed fingers to man bun man.  "Too late!  Now you owe me a soda," he snickered.

 

"Dude, you don't even like carbonated drinks.  You get real gassy and that stuff's nasty," the guy scrunched his nose up with displeasure while smacking away Chanyeol's finger jabs at his side.

 

"A free drink is a free drink," Chanyeol pointed out, "And after downing a can I can burp out the entire length of Moonlight Sonata."

 

"Minseok, don't buy him that soda for the sake of Beethoven's legacy," Baekhyun piped in, clad with the tightest pair of broad shorts Kyungsoo had ever laid eyes upon, even after mentally ordering himself not, he did a double take, because who wouldn't?  Anyone would look just as he did, Kyungsoo confided himself, anyone.

 

"You really think I've got the cash on me to do so?  I'd have to go into the shadow realm and find Zitao if I needed vending machine money," Minseok said with a wave of his hands, fingers wiggling in the air to emphasize said shadow realm—a scary place.  "Legend says that he'll only come out if you leave a Gucci belt as sacrifice."

 

"Nah, he only comes out now if you use Chanel as an offering.  He told me Gucci was a bad, emo phase."  Baekhyun grinned before barking in laughter.

 

Now, with his eardrums ringing from Baekhyun's laughter and the loud splashes from others warming up, he was on the verge of blood gushing out of his ears.  Kyungsoo preferred despising a quieter Baekhyun; it was easier to hate. 

 

"Let's re-run introductions for our guest," Junmyeon suggested, saving Kyungsoo from the demise of losing his hearing.  "You already know Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and I," he turned to Minseok, "This is Minseok, fourth year.  Minseok, meet Kyungsoo, third year.  Kyungsoo, meet—"

 

"Alright, mom, thanks for that," Chanyeol cut in, ignoring Junmyeon's glare as he wrapped an arm around Minseok's shoulder.  "If Minseok is too complicated—"

 

"It's not," Minseok grimaced.

 

"To say, then call him by the name we dubbed for him—"

 

"The name he dubbed for Minseok," Junmyeon said.

 

"Yeah, we had nothing to do with it," Baekhyun added.

 

"Beauty and the Beast."

 

"Please don't call me that," Minseok gritted.

 

"The name has an origin story, though!"  Chanyeol started.

 

"Here we go again."

 

Junmyeon leaned close beside Kyungsoo and whispered, "He tells this to everyone.  If he doesn't he'll get sad, so we let him."

 

Kyungsoo nodded and braced himself, noticing Baekhyun shoving his fingers into his ears from the corner of his eye.

 

"The beauty is his wack style for butterfly stroke.  He has this advantage with thrusting downward, but technically it's not cheating since he was born with it.  The beast part is the arm thing!  Bro, do the arm thing!"  Chanyeol cheered before giving Minseok space, bent in some form of constipated anticipation.

 

"Yeol-ah, you ask me to do the arm things, like, three times a day."

 

"I know, this is the third time for the day, now complete your duty."

 

With a sigh, Minseok outstretched his arm, and bent it back in ways no normal person could.  Admittedly, it was a bit disgusting watching it bend like that without popping from its joint and plopping onto the floor like a loose piece from a mannequin, but it left Kyungsoo with gross fascination.

 

"Relay is starting, get ready, boys," their swim coach advised, the order cut the long thread of laughing and chattering, leaving them with a gap of stern silence.

 

"You all know the drill," Baekhyun shot them a cheeky smile, a contrast out of everyone's stone countenance.  "Minseok, don't go too far with that technique if you don’t Chanyeol to pop it in.  Junmyeon, don't hold back and let people take the lead too often.  Chanyeol... you do you, man, but don't overdo it."

 

"Aight, captain," they said, as if rehearsed, with a smile of their own before huddling together, dispersing after doing the 'Cheer after prep-talk' thing you'd see in sports anime.

 

"So, uh, I've got to record this for my mom.  I'll be over there by the sides," Kyungsoo stated while directing a thumb to said location, closing the last gap of silence and connecting his own string to the thread of chatter.  He headed over once the coaches started ordering swimmers to get to their places, not wanting to be caught in the ruckus.

 

"Make sure to get a good shot of us," Junmyeon jested before adjusting his swim cap, pulled down his goggles, and aligned with other swimmers from different schools at the end of the pool.

 

"Especially me!"  Chanyeol shouted, "Get a good angle!"

 

Kyungsoo readied his camera and started filming, conflicted if his mother would prefer an individual focus of their swimming team or not, eventually settling on the latter, he positioned the camera to film as much possible of the pool.  Everyone stood between a column bordered by red rope attached from both ends of the pool, their teammates hollered cheers of encouragement, their energy bouncing off the walls made it difficult not to get riled, too.  The first whistle blew and the swimmers jumped into the water, held onto the ledge, muscles tensed, their backs against the water and feet ready to push off the wall.

 

It was dead silent until the second whistle blew, the sound of waster crashing was the first to break the silence, then cheering.  Kyungsoo watched as Junmyeon pushed backwards into the water and disappeared, the only evidence his existence were the pulsating ripples in the area where he dived.  The pool revived with life as the swimmers resurfaced with a backstroke.

 

Junmyeon's pace was slow compared to the others, albeit not falling too far behind.  He was the last one to reach the end, roll underwater, push, and continue backstroking back to the other side.  Half way through swimming back, the competition’s speed reduced, strokes less consistent.  Fatigue had gotten to them.  Their pace slowed, allowing Junmyeon to catch up and take the lead, remaining at his steady pace. 

 

Chanyeol snapped his goggles on and dived into the water next after Junmyeon touched the wall, the large splash echoing within the hustle of others scrambling for their spots.  He was a few seconds earlier than the rest, earning him the lead.  He disappeared just as Junmyeon did, the blur of his large figure treading through the water, resurfacing to swim breaststroke.  Height was Chanyeol's key advantage, allowing him to travel distances that only swimmers with faster speeds could accomplish.  Unlike Junmyeon, stamina wasn't a key, and Chanyeol fell behind a quarter through after touching the wall and swimming back, but endured, letting Minseok to dive in with the others, resurfacing with the butterfly stroke.

 

His double-jointed influenced technique lead the match, allowing Baekhyun to dive in and submerge with front crawl before the other competitors.  Without a doubt, Iwatobi would be the winners.  Kyungsoo had watched Baekhyun swim, unfortunately, but he hadn't seen the captain swim like this; as if he'd grown fin and tails, slicing through the water like a harpoon launched and reeled. 

 

Baekhyun emerged from the water, with laboured breath and a wide smile, after being the first to make it back, soon other bodies surfaced, not as happy as he was.  His teammates pulled his limp body from the pool and into their hollering group hug. 

 

"One... Two... Three… Iwatobi!"  They shouted, laughing together as their coach threw them towels, ordering to get dried with a smile.

 

By the time all the swimmers were getting organized, as did the coaches and referees, Kyungsoo turned off the footage—it stopped at Baekhyun's smiling face in the embrace for his own mother in case she wanted the tape, too—and packed everything up, not catching his own smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The bus was less vacant on the ride back, filled with high school kids and adults, forcing Kyungsoo to take a sear near Baekhyun.  It was either him or a nerve-racked, sweat lathered, heavy breathing dad worrying if he left the faucet running and the future hydro bill.  Thankfully, Baekhyun was quiet, perhaps tired, minding his own business and letting Kyungsoo look out the window. 

 

"I still feel embarrassed," Chanyeol groaned to Baekhyun from the seat in front of them, his body shifted so he could prop his chin on the top of the seat.  "I can't believe I screwed up the lead."

 

"The lead I gave you," Junmyeon teased from the seating beside Chanyeol.  Next to Junmyeon was Minseok's head lulled onto his shoulder, eyes fluttered shut, snoring soft.

 

"I know I'm not the toughest of swimmers but I'm sure the lead should've been mine," Chanyeol pouted, "Maybe my diet's not working."

 

"Your diets never work.  Every week I catch you cracking a tub of rocky-road."

 

"They're called cheat days for a reason!”

 

"But you do it so often it feels like you're cheating the actual diet.  Salad has feelings too, be committed, Yeol-ah," Baekhyun teased, giggling and squirming in his seat to avoid Chanyeol's swinging—or, in Kyungsoo's eyes, the flailing of hella' long arms—attempts to grab him.

 

In the end, Baekhyun's smaller stature and the distance between seats won him the battle, leaving Chanyeol to sink back into his seat, burying his nose into his sweatshirt.  His eyes downcast to his stomach while his hands prod the fabric around said area.  "Do you guys think I'm getting fat?"  He asked, unmoving.

 

"'Course not!"  Baekhyun was the first to shout, also the first to withdraw as his volume startled himself and others around—it jolted Minseok awake.  "I mean," he began, hunching forward to peer at Chanyeol through the crack between the seats, finger snaking through nudge his cheek, as if it would ebb away the glum of a chum.  "Being fat isn't a bad thing and there's nothing's wrong with you, Yeol-ah."

 

"It's a bad thing when it comes to swimming.  If I'm too heavy I'd be a sitting rock at the bottom of the pool," Chanyeol frowned.

 

"You're mighty fine, dude, don't worry, you were beast our there.  Although, I heard Samezuka found Youjin a replacement," Minseok added while rubbing his eyes, side eying Junmyeon's shoulder for any drool.

 

"Replace Youjin?  That's ridiculous, he's got the best form for breast stroke I've ever seen," Junmyeon gaped before pausing and facing Chanyeol.  "No offence, Yeol-ah." 

 

Chanyeol wrinkled his nose.  "A little bit taken."

 

"So, that's why I didn't hear Youjin's classic guffawing—I miss his broken chainsaw noises.  Though, his replacement's this dude with the straightest face I've ever seen, not even sure if I caught him blinking," Baekhyun remarked.  "Didn't seem like a local, so I'm guessing a transfer.  Guy’s really tall, too, Chanyeol's new rival."

 

"I knew it!  Samezuka's been out for our throats after the showdown last year!"  Minseok exclaimed with crossed arms.  "First, they move to our recreational training grounds.  Second, they scout a Chanyeol 2.0 out of the pacific.  What's next?  Hunt a double-jointed kid and shoot him with a scholarship?  Find someone with bad dad jokes—no offence, Jun-ah.”

 

“A lot taken,” Junmyeon scoffed.

 

“What if they find their own Kyungsoo to watch our matches?"

 

"I'd rather they not find a random kid, looking like me, film a swim meet," Kyungsoo clicked his tongue.  "That would be a showdown on its own."

 

"Clone Kyungsoo versus the original; the final battle!  It'd be like the first Pokémon movie," Chanyeol grinned, "I'd pay to see that."

 

"You'll get Junmyeon's bag of tears for free with that purchase," Baekhyun snickered, "The last time we watched it he was on the verge of tears and when Ash turned to stone, followed by Pikachu's iconic ' _Pika-pi..._ ', he lost it!"

 

Kyungsoo didn't know what was worse; Baekhyun's poor imitation of Pikachu that he continued to re-enact, Chanyeol's wheezing laughs, Minseok’s rapid cackling, or Junmyeon's loud whining?  He sank into his seat, drowned by the ruckus around him, his tight grip on his camera bag could not provide him a sweet release he begged for.  The answer resonated in Kyungsoo's mind, bouncing off the corridor walls of his thoughts; _I should've walked the mile home, damn._

 

Chanyeol let out an apish howl, followed by Baekhyun's ear-piecing, bark of a laugh, and an addition of Minseok's giggling.

_Better yet, I should just throw myself out the emergency exit, damn._

 

"I'm hungry," Chanyeol said after the room fell to silence.  "And tired, too, but mostly hungry."

 

Minseok raised a brow.  "Weren't you complaining about your weight a few minutes ago?"

 

"People change with time, Minseok," Chanyeol responded, "And I have changed for the better because I believed in myself."

 

"But cat posters with bad quotes don't," Junmyeon piped in while rummaging through his backpack for a wallet.  "I've got extra cash.  We can get off the next stop, there's the buffet-burger place near."  He lifted his head from his opened wallet to Kyungsoo, "You should join us, Kyungsoo."

 

"I don't know... Home sweet home is near the stop after that," he wanted to decline the offer, but Junmyeon's expectant smile was hypnotizing, his stomach was starting to growl, and the words changed faster than he could say ' _black magic'_.  "But I guess I could join.  It's not far of a walk home from there, anyway."  It was a far walk, but the dawn-breaking smile—Kyungsoo swore the others awed at it—on Junmyeon's face was not something worth fading to dusk. 

 

If that happened he'd really get drop kicked into the earth's core.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wheels screeched their final words as the bus rumbled to the next stop, the automatic doors opened with a mechanical _whish_.  It was a bit of a mess; bunch of people packed like tuna fish trying to get out while some, impatient, tried to push through the crowd and get in.  Kyungsoo felt a force behind pushing him into Baekhyun, the proximity of his chest and Baekhyun’s back was obsolete.  He held his breath as the muscle against his chest stiffened—it was nice to know that Kyungsoo wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable.  It would’ve been tolerable if Kyungsoo’s crotch weren’t pressed against Baekhyun’s rear, too.

 

Eventually, people made it out one by one and the crowd died, as did Kyungsoo’s long string of quiet profanity.  “Finally, fresh air,” he rasped after being the next one to hop out of the bus, refraining from kissing the concrete because, despite popularity, it wasn’t sanitary. 

 

“The buffet burger place should just be around the corner,” Junmyeon said, beckoning the rest to follow.

 

Taking the turn down the sidewalk, they located the buffet burger bar and hustled in.  The establishment was a typical burger joint, albeit the retro aesthetic the place brought was new, the smell of warm fast-food wafted into their nostrils, mouth-watering if you discarded the unhealthy benefits of the food they were to consume.  They sat down at a booth, Chanyeol crammed in between Junmyeon and Minseok; long limbs flailing amongst grousing, leaving Kyungsoo and Baekhyun paired across from them.

 

“Okay, so, this restaurant lets you put whatever topping you want on your burgers,” Junmyeon explained, “Let me know what you wanna’ eat.”

 

“Hm… I’m feeling scandalous today,” Chanyeol grinned, Cheshire, causing the everyone to shudder, even Kyungsoo despite knowing him for a day.  “Why don’t we get everything for our burgers?  Y’know, try new things.”

 

“I don’t want to try being broke,” Junmyeon glowered.  “Or contract diarrhea.”

 

“Everyone knows that you’re on par with Zitao when it comes to wealth,” Chanyeol argued.  “We should treat ourselves one and a while, too.”

 

“Treating ourselves doesn’t mean trying to achieve food poisoning,” Baekhyun remarked, “And as your captain, I don’t want to see any of you guys vomiting in the pool tomorrow.”

 

“Big, little man has said it,” Minseok said while resting his head against the table, eyelids battling whether to flutter shut or stay open.  “Although, I’m hungry, and this place has the best guac.  What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

“Not you too, Minseok,” Junmyeon groaned.

 

Chanyeol let out a laugh, “Look!  It’s two against two, we need a tie breaker,” he turned to Kyungsoo, “Dude, do you want to pick the wild side or the safety ranger’s side?”

 

“I’m indifferent, don’t drag me into this battlefield.”

 

“Okay, then let’s flip a coin,” Baekhyun suggested before digging into the pocket of his sweats to retrieve a nickel, he blew the lint off and placed it onto his thumb.  “Heads or tails?”

 

“I’ll pick tails,” Chanyeol smirked.

 

“You do know heads actually has a 51% chance of winning, right?”

 

“Like I said, we’re team wild life, not safety rangers.”

 

Baekhyun rolled his eyes but, regardless, flipped the coin.  He caught the glimpse of shining silver into his palm and slammed it down on his wrist.  Everyone bent over to look at the results.  A beat of anticipation before he removed his hand, eyes widening, frowning.

 

“Wild life lives forever!”  Chanyeol guffawed before springing up from his seat.  “Alright, Junmyeon, _gotta’ go fast_!”

 

“We don’t speak Sega in this Nintendo household!” Baekhyun retorted.

 

Junmyeon buried his face into his hands, staying like that for a solid, contemplating minute before getting up with his wallet and being tugged around, akin to a hyperactive child and their poor parent, by Chanyeol.  “I swear to god, Chanyeol—“

 

“We also don’t use the Lord’s name in vain!”  Minseok scolded them.

 

Despite being noon, the burger joint wasn’t crowded, and so the duo returned within a short time span, their hand carrying trays with stuffed burgers.

 

“Woah,” Kyungsoo awed as he unwrapped the burger, “This is like… the Godzilla of all fast-food.”

 

“Bet this is going to crush my bowls like how Godzilla crushed Tokyo,” Baekhyun snorted before taking a bite, slowly chewing.

 

“I could see the cashier holding in their wretch from here,” Minseok tittered, “We could make it into the paper if we finish this.”

 

“ _Local goons eat ridiculous burger!  What they did next will leave you shocked!_ ”  Baekhyun laughed at his own clickbait newspaper impression.

 

“Tonight, we feast,” Chanyeol declared, burger wrapper thrown aside, before chowing down.  “Tomorrow, we relish the memory.”

 

Junmyeon sniffed the burger, stifling a gag, before taking a bite, scrunched his brows, then took another.  “Actually, this is tolerable.”

 

Everyone began eating, and to Kyungsoo’s surprise, mustard and tuna wasn’t that bad of a combination, although, he couldn’t identify half the condiments inside his meal, but perhaps that was for the better.

 

It wasn’t until a halfway through his burger that he noticed a heap of cucumbers piled on his napkin.  He looked down and traced the hand which were sneaking the cucumbers onto his territory, following the arm up to Baekhyun.  “Dude, what are you doing?”

 

Baekhyun snapped his head up to look at him, eyes widened at being caught cucumber-handed, but continued plucking the cucumbers from his bun and onto Kyungsoo’s napkin.  “I don’t like them,” he pouted.

 

“I’m not your mom,” Kyungsoo countered whilst pushing the napkin towards Baekhyun.  “Just eat it, it’s not going to kill you.”

 

“They will and I’ll drop dead because of you,” Baekhyun whined, outstretching the word as if it’d be any different.  He pushed the napkin back, “Take them this one time.”

 

“No way,” Kyungsoo exclaimed before pushing it back again.  “You’re old enough to grow out of the picky-eater stage.”

 

Another whine and another push of the unwanted cucumbers.  Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, tad bit agitated, picked up one of the sliced cucumbers and threw it— _Splat!_   Right against Baekhyun’s cheek.  The horrid sound resonating throughout the silence of their booth.  Baekhyun closed his eyes with pursed lips as the cucumber slid down his cheek, he raised his sleeve to wipe away the remaining sauce.  Glaring at Kyungsoo, he picked up a slice of cucumber and retaliated, landing right on Kyungsoo’s forehead.

 

“That’s it, you’re done,” Kyungsoo snapped as he chucked a few more slices at Baekhyun.

 

“Food fight!”  Chanyeol hollered, not helping the situation at all, before throwing his fried dipped with ketchup. 

 

The string of events lead to Kyungsoo’s first time being kicked out of a restaurant, this had been the other’s third time—all times involved Chanyeol, albeit, this was the giant’s sixth time.

 

“I expected this to happen,” Junmyeon muttered as he kicked a pebble off the curb, he waved to them after slinging his backpack over his shoulder.  “I’m going to catch the next bus home.  See you tomorrow!”

 

“Yeah, I gotta’ catch that bus too,” Minseok added before waving them goodbye.

 

“Bye-Bye!”  Chanyeol shouted, hauling his arm side to side.

 

The trio walked, not much in silence since Chanyeol was doing most of the blabbering, second came Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo was there to fill in the nooks and crannies.  Chanyeol left after spotting his house, leaving the duo to walk in silence.

 

Nearing the beach, Baekhyun spoke up, “Hey, can we stop here for a bit?”

 

“Whatever, I don’t need to stop for you,” Kyungsoo retorted with laboured breath.

 

“We’ve been walking nonstop for almost an hour, you look like you’re about to combust,” Baekhyun stated before jumping from the stone stairs to the golden sand, he stood up from his crouching position to stare at Kyungsoo, the setting sun carved his features with a layer of amber.  “I’m sure tough guys like you need a break, too.”

 

“Sporty people and their hella’ endurance,” Kyungsoo breathed with a roll of his eyes but followed Baekhyun, ensuring a nice distance between them.

 

Baekhyun sat down once reaching large, black rocks tinged with sand near the wistful coast.  He brought his duffle bag from his arms and fished for a sheet of paper and a marker.  The ocean breeze blew against his hair, lilting his bangs up as he bent over the rock, using it as a surface to write on.

 

Kyungsoo leaned closer to see what he was writing, but Baekhyun’s arm blocked his chances to catch any glimpses.  “What are you doing?”  He asked, eyes trained on Baekhyun as the swimmer folded the paper into a paper boat. 

 

Baekhyun glanced at him, then back to the paper, contemplating.  “I,” he began, corner of his mouth twitching as if the sentence was foreign to say, “Sometimes write things on paper and let them float into the water.”

 

“Isn’t that littering?”

 

“I’ve done my research and water can dissolve this paper brand easily,” he looked back up at Kyungsoo, a smirk cutting into his cheek, “Don’t underestimate mother nature.”

 

“Congratulations, using my own words against me,” he deadpanned.  “So, it’s like an ocean diary, seaside journal, or whatever?”

 

“Kinda’,” Baekhyun admitted before standing up with the paper boat in hand, he padded across the sand, stopping once reaching the coastline where the contrast between land ahoy and Poseidon’s arena prominent by a line.  “Although, I don’t intend on remembering anything I wrote; they’re things I should’ve said or done.”

 

“You’re telling me all of this because…?”

 

Baekhyun, without looking at Kyungsoo, shrugged before setting the boat adrift against the water.  “I’m not sure.   ‘Guess sometimes we just have to vent things, let them go, even if it’s with an unideal person because who else would listen?”

 

Kyungsoo watched as the paper boat rode the uneven waves, unconquered within the eye of the storm—its ivory figure treading through the salty arena—until fading into the distance of the water’s murmuring.

 

“There was nothing wrong with Chanyeol’s swimming,” Baekhyun began, “Samezuka’s transfer was doing foul kicks, giving him the advantage.  He did it while making a big splash so you couldn’t spot it, hard to see without cameras surveying underwater.”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”  Kyungsoo questioned, furrowing his brows, “Is that why you went all out to secure the victory?”

 

“I don’t know,” he answered, words blunt like the rocks crashed upon by the tip of sea’s tongue, “Doesn’t matter, we won, anyway.”

 

“So?  What if you lost the match because of that?”  Kyungsoo felt a breeze brush against his hot face, didn’t cool him down.  “Would you still not stick up for your team?”

 

A beat of silence before Baekhyun nodded.  “You don’t know anything about Samezuka, but if you did then you’d know not to mess with them.”

 

“I can’t believe it,” Kyungsoo scoffed, “Aren’t you one of the Iwatobi’s star athletes?  You’ve got everything I don’t, who cares about petty beef?  If you let this slide, then that’ll also create more problems for you.  Admit it, you’re just a coward!”

 

He hadn’t mean to say that last sentence, but the heat of the moment blown the cauldron in his chest, frustration spewing out in words meant to burn upon contact, too hot to force back into the pot.

 

Baekhyun whipped around, glaring at Kyungsoo with hands clenched in fists by his side.  “Stop saying things as if you know me.  Y-You just—you _don’t_ understand.”

 

“But what I’ve been getting now is enough to put things together; some people are complicated, some people are nothing more,” he adjusted his camera's bag strap, ready to leave Baekhyun and his incompetence.  “Things don’t solve themselves if you don’t do anything.  That’s why you have so many problems, that’s why I don’t know you, but with the rumours I manage to.”

 

Baekhyun stood there, an enraged glare; the fire spreading to Kyungsoo.

 

“People make up things about you because they don’t know the real you,” Kyungsoo said while distancing himself from Baekhyun, “If you want to prove all my claims wrong, then do it.”  With that, he left without looking back at the figure coated in amber—the flames close to devouring him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"How was the swim meet?"  Kyungsoo's mother hummed the question as he entered the bakery.  "Oh, and flip the sign for me, we're closed."

 

Kyungsoo complied, flipping the _'Open_!' sign to _'Closed_!' written in cursive.  "Great," he huffed before plopping down in a seat, resting his cheeks against his palm, arm propped onto the table stripped of its tablecloth, cold against his skin and tinted with a chemical fragrance, as his mother was cleaning the tables with a white rag.  "Just _great_."

 

She paused her polishing, head lilted up to mirror his frown.  She pulled out a seat across from him and sat down.  "Look, Kyungsoo, you don't have to—"

 

"Like everyone," he finished for her.

 

She sighed, "I know you two might have something going on, but could you still make the effort?"

 

"I don't understand why I have to.  I can tolerate him just for the party and that's it."

 

Her frown dug further into her skin, her mouth open to talk, but the words hadn’t arrived.  She tried again, "His mom worries for him, she's worried that he'll be lonely in the future." she continued, interrupting his chance to retort, "I know what you're thinking; he has the whole swim team, but after high school they'll be all over the place to pursue swimming and Baekhyun seems content to stay."

 

"Why would he stay?  There's not much to do here," he crossed his arms, "Our suburbs isn't all that, even I’d leave, too,” he continued, sputtering upon his mother’s scowl, “Of course I won’t because of our bakery.”

 

"I can't speak on his behalf, but if you want to know you should ask him," she said, almost pleading, "If you won't do it for me, then, please do it for his mother."

 

Kyungsoo's eyes downcast while the words sank in, answer hesitating, staring at the camera's bag in his grasp, tightening.  "Okay, I'll try."

 

 

 

 

 

 

04

 

"Since when did that stone heart of yours turn gold?"  Jongdae perked a brow at Kyungsoo through a beaker before shaking it, humming as the contents bubbled, complexion blue due to the liquid, or he could've been blue with suspicion, both works.  "What do we do with the solution again?"

 

"Mix it with the red one and see if there's a chemical reaction," Kyungsoo replied, flipping through his worksheets before sitting up straight.  "And what are you talking about?  I've always been nice, caring, loving, supportive, hardcore advocating for equality—"

 

"You threatened to drown me in P.E a few days ago," Jongdae deadpanned before pouring the blue substance into the beaker with red liquid, whistling as it turned a purple, wispy substance. 

 

"Ah, murderous intent; I haven't heard of her.  Who is she?" Kyungsoo asked while propping his chin atop his palm, sighing as Jongdae shot him a look equivalent to ' _quit the BS and get to it_ '.  "Things happened yesterday and I don't have any classes with Byun today, damned dude even ignored me during lunch.  I could go to his place but I'm pretty sure he'll slam the door at my face."

 

"Don't bother visiting his apartment, he has work after school," Jongdae said while scribbling down notes, waving off Kyungsoo's arched brow.  “I told you, my dude, I know everything that happens in our rundown suburbs.  _I've got contacts on the streets and information comin' at my feet_."

 

"Was that the self composed rap you've been working on for a month?  The same rap you told me and Jongin—"

 

"Grammatically, it's 'Jongin and I'."

 

"Whatever... It feels weird without Jongin holding me back, maybe I really am a changed person." 

 

"Somewhere out there, in math class, Jongin is praying that you don't kick my ass before he gets the chance to videotape it," Jongdae snorted.

 

"I'm sorry, Jongin, but I might let you down one last time," Kyungsoo said with closed his eyes, hands clapped together like a prayer.  "Back to the point.  You said it was complete fire—that was self-extinguished."

 

 "It's... uh—still work in progress," Jongdae chuckled wryly.  He cleared his throat, "Anyway, captain fish blood works at the convenience store round' the block near Gruncle Dokgo's Bloomers; _flowers so irresistible, even to the allergic_."

 

"Thanks for the info and advertisement.  I'll slip you a slice of cheesecake the next time you come over," Kyungsoo grinned at Jongdae fit of cheering; kittenish smile widened with squeals, happy feet, and a fist pump, ignorant to their teacher's demand for silence.  “You really like our cheesecake?”

 

“I like the excessive whip cream and crumble, so I take out the cheese parts.”

 

“You’re horrible.”

 

Jongdae smirked, “I know.”

 

 

 

 

 

Once Kyungsoo made it to the convenience store—done after checking out the flowers at Gruncle Dokgo's Bloomers—he stalled.  Baekhyun hadn't shown up, Kyungsoo peered through the window multiple times to confirm this, and instead of looking like a creep planning to rob a corner store occupied singularly by an old man, he wanted to give the subtle _'Hey, I want a snack but my social anxiety prevents the basic exchange of verbal interaction between humans'_ vibes.

 

The slick countenance shattered once noticing Baekhyun's jogging figure at the corner of his eye, survival instincts kicked in, causing Kyungsoo to barge into the store, apologizing for startling the old clerk before heading to the back of the store.

 

"Thank you so much for covering me!"  Huffed Baekhyun, the _'woosh'_ of the opened door announcing his presence.

 

"No problem, kid.  Get changed while I still have a lifetime," the older chuckled.

 

Kyungsoo peeked his head out from his hiding spot after the old clerk left with Baekhyun as a replacement.  The swim captain stood straight, eyes focused on his hands that fiddled with the items on the cashier desk.  It was now or never... now or... never...  The now pushed never out of consideration as Kyungsoo accidentally knocked a stand of gum packages while trying to gather himself, the sound resonated like pearls clattered onto a countertop, loose from their strings, just like the last of Kyungsoo's confidence once Baekhyun's head snapped up to gape at him.

 

The rusted gears in Kyungsoo's mins, like clockwork, began whirring; panic set it like the sparks flying, his legs brisk walking like the gears clashing against each other, and as soon as he was facing Baekhyun, hands slammed onto the countertop.  His lips fidgeted as he tried to pry them open to say anything—god, let it at least be intelligible—and finally the words flew, "What's the best chocolate bar here?"

 

What.  The. Fuck.

Baekhyun blinked at him, jaw slacked, and blinked again.  "Are you—wait, what?"  He stammered.

 

"What's the best chocolate bar here?"  Kyungsoo repeated while leaning forward against the counter top with a smile; lopsided, twitching, an attempt, but he doubted that was of Baekhyun's concern.

 

"Uhm," Baekhyun took a step back, teeth sunk into his bottom lip, eyes flickering back to Kyungsoo before lilting up, and stood on his toes, scanning the store.  " _Bounty?_ "

 

Kyungsoo furrowed his brows, tilting his head to the side.  "The... paper towel brand?  Okay, look, Byun, I get that you might hate me but I can't eat paper, this is a legitimate question."  Apparently, it was.

 

"Wha—?!  I'm not talking about the paper towel!  Seriously, it's a chocolate brand," he frowned, sighing as Kyungsoo motioned him to explain, "The coconut covered chocolate bar?  _The taste of paradise?_ "

 

"Wait, those still exist?  People still buy those?!"

 

"Yeah, people still buy them, and when I say people I mean me," he shrugged, "They're like ninety cents a bar."

 

"And a deal I awe," Kyungsoo said with a wag of his finger before heading into the chocolate aisle.  There lay, untouched, the coconut, chocolate spawns of Satan.  Baekhyun was right to say that he might've been the only one who ate them, so, after grabbing one Kyungsoo made it back to the cashier desk.

 

Eyeing Kyungsoo wearily, Baekhyun scanned the item, put the given dollar into the cash register, and gave back the change.  "Have a nice evening," he muttered, robotic and automatic.

 

Kyungsoo nodded and stepped to the side to peel off the chocolate bar wrapper, ignoring Baekhyun's sharp stare.  Hesitantly, he took a bit off the bar, cringed as the taste of stale coconut mixed with bitter chocolate flooded his taste buds—but he made the effort to lift his head up, force a stuffed-cheek smile and a thumb up—then, he swallowed.  By the time Baekhyun shifted his gaze elsewhere, Kyungsoo had three-pointer shot the bar into the trash.

 

"Are you going to ask me what chips you should buy?"  Baekhyun asked Kyungsoo as he stepped back to the countertop.  "If so, then the haggis and watermelon ones are good."

 

"I'm not sure if you just have bad taste buds or you're trying to poison me... or maybe both," Kyungsoo said, "And no, I'm not going to ask for another snack recommendation, I wasn't planning to from the beginning.  “I just wanted to say,” His gaze latched on to the ice cream cooler sitting near the entrance.  With pursed lips, he finished, "I'm sorry for saying all those things yesterday about you when, truly, I never knew much, hell, anything about you in the first place."

 

"You're just saying to because your mom told you and we have a party to pull off, right?"  Baekhyun perked a brow, cheek rested against his palm, looking more bored than ever and it was enough to make Kyungsoo's face redden with anger.

 

"No!  Well... maybe half of it, half.  But it if weren't for your ass avoiding me then I wouldn't be here bothering you," Kyungsoo exclaimed before muttering under his breath, "I knew I shouldn't have come here."  He narrowed his eyes at Baekhyun.  "Okay, I might hate your guts but I still value them at a certain level.  So, if we're going to be partners we should at least have a neutral relationship for the time being."

 

Suddenly, Baekhyun slammed a fist onto the counter top, his brows furrowed, a glare creased his countenance, sharpening them; a shade Kyungsoo had encountered yesterday, that day he felt safe with the distance that came between them, however, there were no distances now to make him feel safe.  There was an exit, but Kyungsoo felt paralyzed, frozen under Baekhyun's stare, just as he did the day on the balcony. 

 

"Kyungsoo, are you even listening to yourself?"  Baekhyun snapped, "You've hated me so much for an accident the past week, that's all you ever done if I were the topic.  What makes you think you can pretend and fix it just for the week before going back as if it never happened?!"

 

Kyungsoo was taken back by the truth.  The words stung, poison seeped, and all he needed to do was suck the venom and spit it back.  Somehow, a force beckoned in the back of his head not to, the knock of disagreement sent a shiver all the way to his tailbone.  He let the poison run livid into veins, let it start to kill him.  "Let's make a deal.  I'll tolerate you, be nice, all those things, maybe friendly, and after this week I won't mention it.  I'll forget it, forget you, and forget our problem.  Sound good?"

 

Baekhyun opened to his mouth, a word of disagreement was bound to ricochet off the walls, but then, after a beat of time, he clamped his jaw shut.  His glare faded, leaving an aftermath of concern.  The annoying wrinkle between his brows left by furrowing persisted, Kyungsoo had a small urge to sooth it away with his finger.  "Let's say I accept it, then, how would you pull it off?"

 

"Easy," Kyungsoo said, although, the duo knew it was way more than simple, "I'll just get to know you by you, not by rumours or mishaps," he scanned Baekhyun's employee attire; it was a stark green with white stripes dividing the green like hurdles on a track, a bit eye straining.  His eyes trailed up to the name tag pinned lopsidedly onto the swim captain's chest.  "Willing to make some quick money after this?"

 

"Hell yeah, the bills don't pay themselves," Baekhyun snorted.  "Though, it depends on what your offering.  If it's drugs or anything scandalous I'm not afraid to dial 911."

 

Kyungsoo smirked, "I'm sure you wouldn't."

 

Baekhyun mirrored the smirk before rummaging into his pocket and pulling out his smartphone.  He shook it in front of Kyungsoo.  "Try me, I dare you."

 

Surrendering, Kyungsoo raised his hands up, smirk still perking his features.  "Relax, I don't plan on getting a criminal record yet.  I'm only asking for a hand with the easy task of delivering pastries.  Usually, I do it alone but it takes me almost an hour, maybe more, to get everything done.  Me and my trustee, metal steed on wheels rampage the whole 'town."

 

Crossing his arms, Baekhyun rocked his body side to side, lip jutted out while nodding.  "What's the _ka-ching?_ "

 

"Depending on how many you deliver," Kyungsoo answered, "Do them all and you keep the extra change plus a twenty from my pocket."

 

A cheek splitting grin rose upon Baekhyun's pink lips, displaying his pearly teeth with a bit of his tongue peeking out; a new colour, somehow more eccentric and cheekier than the last.  He feigned spitting on his palm—the fake phlegm gurgle still made Kyungsoo wince—before outstretching it out. 

 

Kyungsoo, unsure what to do, pretended to fake spit onto his palm, too, before accepting the hand.  Although, he received a violent jerk from Baekhyun's side as the latter yanked his arm back.  Confused, Kyungsoo furrowed his brows.  "Dude, you good?"

 

Baekhyun wrinkled his nose while grumbling in disgust as he wiped his hand against his employee uniform.  "Dude, I think you, like, actually got spit on me."

 

Kyungsoo's grip on the countertop tightened, his lips sealed to stifle a laugh.  "Oops."

 

He stuck around for the rest of Baekhyun's shift, which was six hours long.  Damn, minimum wage was a sucker.  However, the hours were bearable as they managed to hold idle chatter and conversations. 

 

"I’ll let you catch me red-handed right now," Baekhyun began as he leaned against the countertop, stretching his legs and back like a cat, "Junmyeon wasn't the only one that cried when we watched the First Pokémon movie.  I teared up when Ash turned to stone and Pikachu was mewling."

 

Kyungsoo learned forward, their arms brushed against each other but he distanced a comfortable gap.  "No way, you?"

 

"It was, like..."  Baekhyun brought a finger up to the top of his cheekbone and strokes downwards two times.  "That many tears, not a whole bucket!  I started laughing when Pikachu repeatedly slapped his clone and all the other clones were just watching them.  I know it was dramatic but that's why I couldn't help it."

 

They both laughed, their chittering voices scraped the walls, making them seem less in need of a paint job, perhaps the whole shop seemed more alive.  Kyungsoo wasn't sure, his attention absorbed elsewhere.

 

"Okay, time for me to admit my crimes," Kyungsoo said as he plucked a lollipop from its small stand and twiddled it between his fingers.  "I haven't watched the First Pokémon movie or associated myself with Pokémon in any shape or form."

 

Baekhyun gasped, "Then I wasted time rapping all eight-hundred-and-two Pokémon?!"

 

"No, not really—actually, maybe... Kinda'... Okay, yeah," Kyungsoo shrugged, it was the truth put in the nicest way possible, in his standards it was.  "Never mind, I lied again.  Last summer I tried Pokémon Go for a few days before uninstalling."

 

"You uncultured swine!"  Baekhyun declared, hand slapped against his heart, dramatic because they weren’t anyone else in the store.  "Pokémon Go was just a trap for twelve-year olds that never played anything else from the franchise!  They're the reason why Sun and Moon was a flop in disguise!"

 

Kyungsoo raised his hands up, a lazy surrender.  "If it makes you feel better I'll watch the first Pokémon movie."

 

"I've got the DVD, you provide snacks," Baekhyun grinned. 

 

It was an offer Kyungsoo had no choice but accept, after all, he walked in on that one.

 

Their chatter would stop when the spout of ideas ran dry, awkward silence were the outlier drops near the drain; trying to whist themselves away but remained in the atmosphere, a reminder.  Although, it was more of a broken faucet, the room filling with noise every now and then without notice.

 

The other reason their chattering would go mute is when a customer came in, tempting Kyungsoo to step aside and allow them to pay and Baekhyun to work.  If it were someone he knew—worse if that person knew them both—then he'd scuffle to the back, hiding away amongst the lottery tickets as if examining the wildcards and considering his luck. 

 

This happened more often than he'd like.  Baekhyun frowned, like the sun swallowed by the horizons so the moon could rise, when Kyungsoo turned on his heels and rushed away.  Kyungsoo never noticed because once the person left he'd immediately brisk walk back to the front, Baekhyun's wide smile, like the sun slinking back into existence; a dawn break, always greeted him.

 

"Let's play a friendly game of 'Who Would You Do'?"  Kyungsoo suggested, more so decided.

 

"That game's never friendly," Baekhyun snorted.

 

"Whatever's said in this shabby convenience store stats in the shabby convenience store," Kyungsoo added, "You in?"

 

Baekhyun tapped his chin, eyes lilted up the ceiling, thinking.  He then pointed the finger at Kyungsoo.  "I'm in."

 

"Okay, lets start off with celebrities," Kyungsoo said, "Taylor Swift or Kaya Scodelario?"

 

Baekhyun tapped his fingers against the countertop, lips pursed, concentrating harder than he should.  "Kaya Scodelario.  Taylor's okay, not my type."

 

"Ki Hong Lee or Ha Jiwon?"

 

"Ki Hong Lee," Baekhyun answered instantly, muscle stiff under Kyungsoo's gaze.  "No offence to Jiwon, I just haven't seen much of her."

 

Kyungsoo dismissed it, Baekhyun's sudden recoil from his actions was confusing; he'd understand the reasoning but not he nervousness that tagged along.  "Moving onto people we know," he continued, "Soojung or Taeyeon?"

 

"I guess... Taeyeon?"  Baekhyun shrugged, "Used to be neighbours back then," he sighed with a small smile, reminiscing the memory, "She was my childhood crush, the again, she was every boy's childhood crush back when the cootie phase was over and we needed someone to like to validate our existence."

 

"Those were the tough, golden ages," Kyungsoo chuckled.  "I'm gonna' answer this one, too.  Taeyeon or Minseok?"

 

"Let's say it at the same time," Baekhyun offered, to which Kyungsoo agreed, before counting down from three.  "One... Two... Three!"

 

"Minseok!"  They both say in unison before breaking out into a fit of tittering.

 

“I'll admit that Minseok is a package; every guy would be a little gay for him," Kyungsoo snorted.

 

Baekhyun raised his hand up, fingers curled into his palm except for his raised pinky, pretending he were holding a glass.  "To being low-key gay for Minseok," he announced, posh, chest puffed out with air and stifled giggles.

 

"To being low-key gay for Minseok," Kyungsoo hurrahed before repeating Baekhyun's gesture and bumping their fists together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Welcome to Do’s Pastries!”  Subin called from the cash register while attending to a customer, the chiming of the bells atop the door signaled Baekhyun’s and Kyungsoo’s entrance, returning from the convenience store.

 

“I’m here for the deliveries,” Kyungsoo announced, stepping into her vicinity once the customer left.  He side-eyed Baekhyun who was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, eyes downcast.  “Actually, _we’re_ here for the deliveries.”

 

“You brought someone other than Jongin or Jongdae for once?”  Subin teased before turning to Baekhyun—his head snapping up as she shifted her attention to him—and extending a hand.  “I’m Subin, I work here so that makes me Kyungsoo’s friend by default.

 

“Baekhyun,” he murmured but pulled a smile, eyes narrowed at the extended hand, confused, before making a noise of realization, ripping his hand from their stationary position and shaking hers.

 

“We’ve got a few to deliver, they’re at the back in boxes and I wrote the addresses on them,” Subin directed them with a pointed finger.

 

They headed off and found two white boxes adorned with a lavender ribbon, yellow stick note on top of the freezer; “ _Caution!  Ice cream cake!_ ”  

 

“If you’re unsure of how to get around then we’ll need a form of communication,” Kyungsoo fished into his pocket and pulled out his phone.  He turned to Baekhyun, who was gazing at the boxes, and opened his palm.  “Pass me your phone.”

 

Startled, Baekhyun snapped his head to him, “Why?”

 

“I need your number, duh.”

 

“Oh,” Baekhyun complied, the phone fumbled in his hands before being unlocked and given to Kyungsoo.

 

Kyungsoo hummed at Baekhyun’s home screen wallpaper; a picture of him and his mom outside in vacationer gear—Baekhyun wore a straw hat while his mom, smile empowered with the faint wrinkles of age, adorned a flower necklace—on a beach, not theirs as the sand was white instead of gold, the water crystal clear instead of murky.  He pressed in Baekhyun’s number, pressed his number into the latter’s, and gave the phone back.

 

“Let’s start with this one.”  Kyungsoo picked up the box on the left and scanned the sticky note.  “Red velvet, addressed to Kim’s Tteok-Bokki for a birthday party.  You know where that is, right?”  


“Yeah.  That’s a hotspot for our freshmen swimmers,” Baekhyun commented while grabbing the box.

 

Kyungsoo stepped over and opened the back door.  “Call me if you need directions.”

 

Baekhyun was to his word, Kyungsoo hadn’t received a pleading call whether to take a turn to the left or right, leaving Kyungsoo finding ways to occupy himself in the silence fit for more than one, his attempts to talk with Subin ended with her ushering him away because she was busy with work.  Eventually, Baekhyun came back, smiling; cheek, chin, and the tip of his nose covered in red sauce, hair mussed.

 

“You look like you just got mauled,” Kyungsoo stifled a laugh.

 

“Really?  I tried getting clean as possible,” Baekhyun griped.  “When I went there I was bombarded with the freshman of our swimming team and their captain, Sehun.  They threw tteok-bokki at me!  It was a saucy Warfield!”

 

“Wait, here,” Kyungsoo beckoned before sneaking into the kitchen to grab a rag from the sink.  He drenched it in water, wrung the access, and headed back to find Baekhyun crouched near the other box, playing with the ribbon.  “Stand up,” he said, to which Baekhyun complied, before dabbing the cloth onto the cheek spotted with ttaek-bokki sauce.  “Y’know, you could just lick the sauce off.”

 

“Sehun threw that one with his bare hands, no way in hell am I touching it.”

 

Kyungsoo snorted as he wiped off everything on the swim captain’s cheek, dragging the cloth to the tip of his nose rewarded him with a fit of giggles and giddy squirming.  “Stay still!”  He chided, slapping the latter’s face with the cloth.

 

“I can’t, it tickles!”

 

Kyungsoo worked fast on cleaning that area, not wanting to hold up the deliveries, and traveled south to Baekhyun’s chin.  By then, Baekhyun’s fatigue arrived from the laughing and past traveling, which was absurd as Kim’s Ttae-Bokki wasn’t far away.  Perhaps they were on the same level when it came to stamina.  Kyungsoo shuddered as Baekhyun’s hot breath brushed against his knuckles, a contrast from the chilling air-conditioned bakery.

 

“You alright?”  Baekhyun asked, lips twisted a frown, concerned, warm breath brushing his knuckles again, catching the sudden stillness of Kyungsoo’s muscles.

 

“Yeah,” he muttered before breaking out of the stiffness and wiping away the last splatter of sauce, “Just fine.”

 

Baekhyun nodded after Kyungsoo withdrew, patted his rustled hair in attempt to fix it—he didn’t succeed—and lifted the box into his arms.  He managed to open the door on his own before heading out.  The door closed with a slam, Kyungsoo’s breath hitched.

 

Baekhyun returned, journey successful without the need to call Kyungsoo once.  “What’s next?”  
  
“We’ve got this ice cream cake,” Kyungsoo responded as he brought it out of the freezer, “You gotta’ be quick with this one, it’s literally sizzling coals out there.”

 

“I can tell,” Baekhyun huffed as he wiped away the beads of sweat dripping from his temple.  He grabbed the box and rushed out of the bakery.

 

A few minutes later, the sudden vibration shaking the table Kyungsoo was leaning on made him scream.  He caught his breath, latched onto his phone, and answered it.

 

“Where’s the address again?”  Baekhyun’s voice rang through the speaker, “I think I lost the sticky note in the bakery.”

 

Kyungsoo scanned the back and found it, he bent over and picked it up and read the address to which Baekhyun had no idea where it was.  “Okay, I know where it is since that family always orders an ice cream cake every month for some next accomplishment they figured out they could celebrate.”

 

“Even in the snow?”  Baekhyun snorted.

 

Kyungsoo nodded, forgetting Baekhyun couldn’t see the gesture, before replying, “Unfortunately.”

 

“Relay the directions to me, I think the cake is starting to melt.”

 

“Where are you right now?”

 

“Literally just a block forward.”

 

“Alright, I think I know where you are.  Get ready to run,” Kyungsoo smiled upon hearing Baekhyun’s groan.

 

Kyungsoo said direction after direction whenever Baekhyun would reply ‘done!’, the latter’s panting and footsteps pounding the ground were the only thing to be heard.  He returned with laboured breath, hot and sweaty, shooting Kyungsoo a thumb up after bursting through the door, fatigue weighing on him as he sighed, “Thanks the lords for A.C”

 

“Good job,” Kyungsoo smirked as he balanced the twenty dollar-bill on Baekhyun’s head, the latter not minding as he collapsed on the ground like jelly.  “But there’th be much to learn, young Padiwan.” 

 

Baekhyun said nothing, just grinned as he rested his head against the back door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

05

 

" _For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams_

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

_And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes_

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

_And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side_

_Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,_

_In her sepulchre there by the sea—_

_In her tomb by the sounding sea._ "

 

Jongdae and Kyungsoo gaped at Jongin, silence drifted even as they occupied the swing set, notorious for being rusty—his hand reached out to the cloudy skies, other hand holding his poetry book.

 

"Man, that..." Jongdae whistled a low tune that dissolved into the shake of his lowered head, tongue clicking.  " _Depressing_."

 

"Edgar Allen Poe was a depressing poet," Jongin remarked, eyes persisted tracing the sky.

 

"Not sure there's anything up there to find," Kyungsoo told Jongin, shoes kicking off the wood-chipped caked ground to rock back and forth, the rasping creak of the swing resonated throughout the abandoned playground, "Your depressing poem made the sun too depressed to show."

 

Jongin's arm dropped, pouting as he flipped through the pages encrypted with literature.  "Maybe I should read a happy one.  Wanna' listen to one about a girl who spent her entire eating a whale?"

 

"I didn't know Jongdae was a poetic inspiration," Kyungsoo snorted, crying out as the latter kicked the side of his swing, causing his rocking motion to jitter, hands fumbling for his phone's good life.

 

Jongdae grabbed onto the swing's connected chain, bringing Kyungsoo down to earth.  "Who's the person you've been texting for the past half hour?"  He asked, leaning in for a glimpse of Kyungsoo's screen.

 

Kyungsoo yanked his phone away; hand pushed against Jongdae's cheek while the other pulled the device an arm's distance.  "Tell me your secrets and I'll tell you mine."

 

Jongdae whined with grabby hands, words unintelligible as the hand pushing harder against his cheek, "Isth na a biggh dealh!—"

 

"Spill."

 

"'Kay, fine," Jongdae surrendered after Kyungsoo removed his hand.  "Jongin walked in on me naked in the stalls yesterday."

 

"That was suppose to be a secret!"  Jongin wailed, flushing a deep red.

 

"We've already seen each other's manhood, there's no secret 'bout that," Kyungsoo remarked, "Confess something else."

 

Jongdae huffed before admitting, "Made out with some guy behind the school last year.  Haven't seen him since."

 

Jongin's jaw dropped, staying in that position long enough for Jongdae to push it back up.  "Why didn't you tell us about that?"

 

Jongdae shifted in his seat.  "...Didn't think it mattered."

 

"It kinda' does," Kyungsoo said, Jongin nodded.  "I mean, the fact that you kissed a guy wouldn't matter, but at the same time it does," his words flowed with the motion of his hands, "Does that even make sense?"

 

Jongdae's lips curved a frown, shrugging.

 

"A little," Jongin piped in, book closed and on his lap.  "Was it a bet?"

 

Another shrug would be the last they got out of Jongdae and knowing him it was best to leave it at that.  Jongin opened his book and murmured out a poem about leapin' lizards, the one Jongdae liked.

 

Kyungsoo didn't think Jongdae would confess anything major—that's why his hair was so big, so tousled; it was full of secrets—regardless, he chipped his own secret, "I'm texting Baekhyun."  The yearn to take the words back rose as they spilt; he wanted it kept to himself—information only him and Baekhyun would know.

 

Suddenly, a grin cracked Jongdae's stone exterior, much to the duo's relief, and elbowed Kyungsoo to the side.  "Since when were you two becoming close?"

 

"And for a moment I thought about going easy on you," Kyungsoo retaliated, jabbing his fingers into Jongdae's hips, earning a satisfying squeal.  "I'm only bonding with him because I'm obliged to."

 

Jongdae arched a brow, lidded eyes and a mellow hum indicated he knew otherwise, but the thoughts didn't materialize because they both knew what would happen if it did.  "Alright, you do you," he drawled, "Should we catch a movie?  I'm in the mood for angsty-romance."

 

"Hurt and comfort movies bring you back to your emo phase," Jongin commented, "Tomorrow you'll come to school wearing thick eyeliner and _MCR_ merch."

 

"It's not a phase mom, it's who I am!"

 

"Sorry, I don't think I can come," he peered down to his conversation filled phone screen. 

 

**Baekhyun - Yesterday 11:50 P.M**

_> do u think aliens dont visit us bc we're actually the scariest race_

**Kyungsoo - Yesterday 11:53 P.M**

_> Go to sleep_

**Baekhyun - Yesterday 11:54 P.M**

_> the night is stil young and i have questions!!!_

_> ive drank more enrgy drinks than questions..._

**Kyungsoo - Yesterday 11:56 P.M**

_> Go.  To.  Sleep._

**Baekhyun - Yesterday 11:56 P.M**

_> qqqqqqqqqqqqq_

_> okokok!!!_

_> Gn!! _ _( 'ω' ) /_

**Kyungsoo - Yesterday 11:57 P.M**

_> Night_

**Kyungsoo - Today 4:36**

_> Are you free to go grocery shopping?  We need stuff for the party._

**Baekhyun - Today 6:27**

_> yea!! Sry for late response was at swim prac_

_> would around rn be good?_

**Kyungsoo - Today 6:28**

_> Yeah._

"I've gotta' go grocery shopping," Kyungsoo announced, lunging off the swing.  He felt heat creep up his neck upon meeting the latter's suggestive stares and arched brows, Jongdae's wiggled.  "For the party, remember?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead," Jongin waved him off as if he needed the permission.

 

"You're paying for the next movie we see," Jongin said.

 

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes with a sigh, frivolous, before lifting his bicycle from its side.  Once saddled, he waved the duo a goodbye before pedalling off.

 

He maneuvered through _The Witch's Claws_ found uphill, once escaping spoilt soil he rode down the concrete.  It would take ten minutes pedalling normal pace to the supermarket, five if he sped—ideal for time, unideal for his lungs.  Thoughts of the idea ceased once he realized he was close to slamming into someone.  Not able to process in time, Kyungsoo yelped before skidding to the side and falling off his bicycle, the concrete like flamed coal scraping against his skin.

 

"Oh my god—I'm so sorry!  Are you okay?!"  Cried a familiar voice, Kyungsoo heard scuffling of the latter's approach.

 

"Not really, but I'm not dead," Kyungsoo groaned after hauling his head up from the ground to a mortified Baekhyun.  Then, voice hoarse, he greeted, "Hey, what's up?"

 

"Heaven, for you, at this rate," Baekhyun knelt and huffed, sounding more worried than exasperated, before letting go of the puppy in his arms.  "Helmets and kneepads were invented for a reason."

 

"You know what they say; wild side's the way to go, yeah?"  Kyungsoo tried, grinning.

 

"No one says that.  Only _Chanyeol_ does," Baekhyun deadpanned before offering a hand, to which Kyungsoo accepted, surprised as Baekhyun lifted him back to his feet with ease, warm hands against his sides steadied him.  His eyes scanned Kyungsoo’s figure, afterwards, a relieved sigh escaped his lips.  “Just a few scratches.”

 

Somehow, Kyungsoo managed to trip, bumping into Baekhyun's hard chest—he was built lean.  Kyungsoo was quick to withdraw with an apology and, with hell-burning ears, he scampered to rescue his fallen bicycle.  "What were you even doing standing in the middle of the sidewalk?"

 

"I found this puppy," Baekhyun replied before turning his head to where he left the dog, happy to find that it hadn't ran away.  He crouched down and tousled its dark fur.  "Maybe it's lost, maybe abandoned—I don't know.  But I can't take it back to my apartment since the landlord prohibits pets."

 

"Pass it to someone else?"

 

"Junmyeon and Minseok live too far away.  Chanyeol is allergic," Baekhyun frowned while checking the tag on the dog's collar, "There's an address on this but the puppy's been here since this morning.  You'd think it'd be found or ran back home by now."

 

"Maybe it's just waiting for it's owner, that... you know," Kyungsoo saddled onto his bike, one foot on the ground.  "Like that story of a dog waiting for its owner at the train station."

 

Baekhyun hummed before standing up.  "I want to take it with me but what if the owner or anyone interested in the puppy comes?"

 

"We don't have all day, Byun."

 

"I know, I know.  Sorry for holding up," Baekhyun muttered, shooting Kyungsoo a fleeting glance before pouring the rest of his attention on the dog.  "I'll just leave it here.  Let's go."

 

Kyungsoo nodded and rode ahead, a slow pace as he kept his eyes locked on Baekhyun from behind.  The swim captain's attention glued on the dog, pace slowing down the further they were from it.  With a gruff, Kyungsoo dug his shoes into the concrete.  "Okay, after we go grocery shopping we can come back and check on the dog.  If it's still here, then we'll take it to the address."

 

"Really?"  Baekhyun looked at him, surprised, soon fading to an ear reaching smile that, too, faded.  "What if they don't want the puppy back?"

 

Kyungsoo pursed his lips, the words loaded in his holster of regret, but this situation was a game of Russian roulette, so, he brought the chance up to his temple, and fired.  "I'll keep it, you can visit if you want, and we'll set up posters for anyone interested in adopting it."

 

Baekhyun's smile rose again and agreed before running over to walk alongside Kyungsoo, turning into a chatter-box throughout their journey to the supermarket, not that Kyungsoo minded, he was too busy chatting along, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo praised the heavens when they walked through the first set of sliding doors; sweet air-conditioning to save them from the horrendous heat outside that kicked in for the rest of afternoon.  Baekhyun must've felt the same, seeing how his arms were spread out, head thrown back.  ("Summoning the holy spirits," is what he called it, Kyungsoo declared him a statue counterfeit).  Kyungsoo began the grocery shopping voyage, grabbing a red basket from the stack.

 

"We need strawberries, table cloths," Kyungsoo murmured as they walked through the display of farmer's goods, Baekhyun trailing behind.  "Maybe candles?"

 

"No, definitely no candles," Baekhyun objected, avoiding Kyungsoo's questioning glance.  "I told you already, she likes things simple, nothing overwhelming.  If you light the candles then she might... panic—probably extinguish them with any liquid she sees first, then panic."

 

Candles weren't overwhelming and it was absurd to think so, Kyungsoo wanted to protest, but knew better than to argue about what's better for Baekhyun's mother. 

 

"But why?"  The question slipped out without thinking, Kyungsoo felt a knot twist in his stomach as a light in Baekhyun's eyes flickered out, something inside him shut down.  "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

 

"It's fine," dismissed Baekhyun; a sharp bite from his tightened voice, Kyungsoo felt the pang—wretch inducing. 

 

Baekhyun was quiet while taking the lead and dodging people in the way, stopping in front of the boxes of strawberries.  Kyungsoo caught up to him, unsure what line he’d cross and further lines he shouldn’t, the atmosphere reeked of awkwardness, muscle stiffening as he tried to find his place to stand.

 

Settling behind Baekhyun, he peered over the latter’s shoulder, eyes locked on the box in the swim captain’s hand.  “Open it and see if there’s any spoilt ones.”

 

Baekhyun’s eyes lilted from the box, then he whipped his head to meet Kyungsoo’s, eyes wide as if he didn’t notice his presences.  “Wha—?!  We can’t just open something we didn’t buy!” he gritted, voice a sharp whisper, eyes darting side to side for any clerks. 

 

“It’s crazy to spend money on spoilt fruit,” Kyungsoo countered and snatched the box from Baekhyun’s hands.  He opened it, humming at the crimson, lush bounty laid before him. 

 

“You’re crazier doing this!”  Baekhyun rebuked, arms snaked in attempt to steal back the box, and to this Kyungsoo turned around on his heels, letting the clawing hands rake against his arms. 

 

“My mom does this all the time with grapes.  You just grab one, eat it, and if it’s good buy the pack,” said Kyungsoo while poking at the strawberries, stopping once finding the hidden criminal.  “See,” he picked up a rotten strawberry found at the bottom of the box, waving it in front of Baekhyun whom took a staggering step back.

 

He was cringing, on the brink of screeching, at the horrid specimen.  “Is that mold?!”

 

“Only the big shot up there knows the answer.”

 

“God?”

 

“No, idiot, health critics,” Kyungsoo snorted, inching closer to Baekhyun with the rotten strawberry, snickering as he squirmed.

  
“If that touches me I’m going to punch you, for real,” Baekhyun whined, almost jumping out of his skin as Kyungsoo lunged forward with the forbidden fruit, pulling back last second to shove the strawberry into the box and back to its origins, just before a clerk strolled by with their cart of restocks.

 

The sudden blow against Kyungsoo’s arm caused him to stagger, clenching his arm, he whirled to Baekhyun.  “What the hell was that for?”

 

“For threatening the peace of my wellbeing,” Baekhyun stated, curt, before blowing against his fist as if it wafted smoke from the friction.  “Justice has been served.”

 

“Technically, I just saved the party’s wellbeing.  Without me we would’ve eaten moldy strawberry.”

 

“I’d instantly throw the abomination out regardless.”

 

“We’re paying for twenty good strawberries a pack, not nineteen and one wanting to infect us all,” Kyungsoo shot back before digging into the pile of strawberry boxes, biting back a smile from Baekhyun’s sudden rupture of laughter.

 

 

 

 

 

After one heck of an errand—Baekhyun had gotten lost within the deli section of the supermarket, and it took some time for Kyungsoo to realize the person behind him was a mother’s stray child and not Baekhyun in the dairy aisle—they hauled their white, plastic bags over the concrete.

 

“For May, I didn’t expect it to be this hot,” Baekhyun groaned.

 

“ _April showers brings May flowers_ ,” huffed Kyungsoo.

 

“Oh, please, the flowers are wilting under the heat.  Global warming is real!”

 

“Hush, I’m trying to enjoy my life after school,” Kyungsoo reprimanded, “I’d rather not think of our earth’s crisis.”

 

Baekhyun shrug, lips curling upwards as they turned the corner, only for it to be washed away with disappointment.  “The puppy isn’t here!”

 

“Probably ran away or someone took it.  I expected this to happen, you should’ve, too.”

 

“But still…”  Baekhyun whined while scuffling his foot against the pavement, trudging behind Kyungsoo as they continued.  “Thanks, anyway.”

 

Kyungsoo felt his feet slip off the bicycle pedals, halting.  He peered over his shoulder.  “What are you thanking me for?”

 

Baekhyun hummed as he skipped ahead, their shoulders brushing before the swim captain turned spun around on his heels, their eyes locked.  “Offering to take the puppy and put up some posters,” he perked his head to the side, “Remember?”

 

Kyungsoo found himself drowning in Baekhyun’s eyes.  It brought a lightheaded feeling, a shortage of breath, a wave of heat trickling against his neck.  Confused and cautious, Kyungsoo ripped his eyes away from Baekhyun’s.  “It was nothing, I only said it so you could move faster,” he muttered.

 

“I think that…”  Baekhyun began, turning around and heading off, “You’re nicer than you think or maybe want to be.  I dunno’, Kyungsoo, you’re a confusing person.”

 

_I would say the same to you._ “Whatever,” Kyungsoo dismissed the conversation and rode ahead of Baekhyun, the latter didn’t bother recapturing the lead.  Even with his back against him, Kyungsoo could see, no, _feel_ Byun Baekhyun’s damned smile. 

 

Although, it didn’t seem to bother him anymore. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Okay, I added more dressing, try it,” Baekhyun urged before stabbing his fork into Caesar’s garden condensed within a bowl, lettuce limp with over-moisture, and nudged it against Kyungsoo’s lips.

 

Kyungsoo grunted a comply and opened his mouth, fingers held onto Baekhyun’s hand just in case he ended up stabbing him.  “It’s still watery, add more dressing,” he advised between chews.

 

“But I used up the whole bottle!”

 

Kyungsoo gagged and spat out the green contents into a napkin.  “We just bought that bottle, too!”  He sputtered, “Did you strain out all the water?!”

 

“Uh,” Baekhyun leaned back, tilted the bowl towards him, and peered down.  “Maybe… not?”

 

Kyungsoo stifled the urge to throw his spat-on napkin at Baekhyun.  “You’re cooking skills are on par with my friend’s, maybe even worse.”

 

Baekhyun scowled before slamming the bowl onto the table.  “Do we really need appetizers?”

 

“You can’t have your guests only eat cake at the party,” scolded Kyungsoo as he caught a glimpse of their recently baked sponge cake cooling on the countertop.  “I’m surprised we didn’t blow up the house.”

 

“I researched the baking’s basic not-to’s a few days ago, you can thank that.”

 

“You?  Research?  Devotion to this?  Wow, I’m impressed.”

 

Baekhyun shrugged, grinned to himself, and leaned back in his chair.  “When can we put the strawberry and icing on?”

  
“When the cake cools so the icing doesn’t melt,” answered Kyungsoo, “So, in the meantime, let’s prepare some dishes.”

 

The anticipated groan or whine hadn’t come and Kyungsoo felt petrified to find Baekhyun’s eyes narrowed on him. 

 

“You have Caesar sauce over there,” said Baekhyun, pointing at the corner of his lip, right before Kyungsoo was to ask why he was staring. “You have Caesar sauce over there,” said Baekhyun, pointing at the corner of his lip, the silence prolonged.

 

“Uh… thanks?”  Kyungsoo mumbled, feeling something bloat in his chest, before wiping it off with his sleeve, too embarrassed to catch Baekhyun’s stare while it lasted.  “Alright, now let’s work on improving that salad, Baekhyun.”

 

Relief came with Baekhyun’s groan and over exaggerated movements, drawing Kyungsoo back to a safe-haven feeling.

 

“Wait!”  Exclaimed Baekhyun, shattering Kyungsoo’s glass pane of solace.

 

“What now?”  He scowled.

 

“You,” Baekhyun began, leaning towards Kyungsoo, proximity close enough to count the spots of acne on the swim captain’s cheek—his hands clung the edge of the seat, feet dangling at the sides, “You said my name, properly, for the first time!”

 

“So, what?”  Baekhyun nudged closer with a grin crawling on his face, forcing Kyungsoo to scoot inches backwards.  “Get back to fixing the salad!”

 

“Aye, aye,” Baekhyun complied and leaned away, gaze hanging onto Kyungsoo’s for a little longer.

 

“That ugly smirk of yours means you’re up to something.”

 

_“_ I’m up t’nothing…”

“It’s someth—Hey!  Cut it out!  Hands off or I’ll stab you with the fork!”  Kyungsoo squirmed feeling fingers snake and wriggle against his sides.

 

Baekhyun could only snicker.

 

(“Cold pasta’s done, now back to the garden salad,” Kyungsoo said and reached into the grocery bag to take out a cucumber.

 

“Traitor!”  Baekhyun hissed before smacking the vegetable out of Kyungsoo’s hand.

 

“You need to learn how to deal with it!”  Kyungsoo snapped before diving in to retrieve the holy vessel.

 

Baekhyun followed his actions, clawing at his bicep—even biting—like a rabid cat.

 

And so, they wrestled.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

The blaring ringtone—a different tune for a different someone, and that’s putting it nicely—rang.  Bouncing off the walls of his room, then striking into his head, presence like a church bell, but the song was nothing holy.

 

Kyungsoo huffed a greeting, phone now plastered to his cheek as he wiped away the drool from the corner of his lip.  His ears met nothing but panting and steps clacking against concrete.  “Jongdae, why are you calling me and running like a madman?  It’s 2 A.M, keep your shenanigans on a dayshift.”

 

“My talent earns below minimum wage, this is overtime.”

 

“I feel like you’re grinning because you’ve caught me grumpy and tired, but you don’t run.  Something’s up,” Kyungsoo rubbed his eyes, “Text me.”

“Can’t,” a gasp of air before a sigh, “I’m not a fast texter,” a hesitant pause before, “This is a Code _pepper_.”

 

Kyungsoo almost dropped his phone, hands frantic, now worried.  “Code _pepper?!_ Why didn’t you say that first?”

 

“Sorry, I’m busy managing my breath.  Y’know, trying not to die,” Jongdae rasped, Kyungsoo’s grip on his phone tightens, “I already called Jongin.”

 

“Okay, hang up now, I’ll be over there.”

 

Jongdae did just that, he’s not as fast as Kyungsoo’s body springing off his bed.  He equipped sneakers, wallet, and sneaked out through the back door.

 

Jogging to the nearest convenient store, he picked up a box of fudge bars.  Once bought and in a bag, he continued his way. 

 

The context of ‘pepper’ in Code Pepper is… nothing; there is none.  As kids, they met up and wanted to create a calling for their trio emergencies.  Thinking hard of a name, Jongin had muttered ‘Pepper’ on a whim and they’ve stuck with it ever since. 

 

Code Pepper wasn’t frequent for them—matters were dealt and done with within their bubble before it popped—the first was Kyungsoo; he needed a break from his house bellowing with arguing; second and last being Jongin and his bad nightmare.

 

Concrete and grass turned to wood chips beneath Kyungsoo’s soles, cold.  The empty road long left, replaced with the sight of Jongdae and Jongin on the swings, eyes narrowed to him. 

 

“Sorry, I’m late.”  He stationed himself onto the swing beside Jongdae.

 

“It’s fine,” Jongdae’s frown nudged a small smile, tight-lipped.

 

“It’s not.  This is a code Pepper, _your_ code Pepper.”  Kyungsoo opened the box and fished out two bars, unwrapped them, and extended one to Jongin, which was accepted, and one to Jongdae.  “Eat it—comfort food.”

 

Jongdae crinkled his nose, unmoving.

 

“What a baby,” Kyungsoo sighed, pushing the fudge pop against the corner of Jongdae’s lips.  The latter remained persistent, resorting Kyungsoo to shoving the popsicle into Jongdae’s mouth, no complaints afterwards.  “You’re welcome.”

 

Jongdae rolled his eyes, but conceded, his hand finding its way to the stick.  “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” 

 

“But—“

 

“I won’t say it again, so, don’t make me.”

 

Jongdae’s eyes adverted down to his popsicle.  He kicked his legs off the ground, letting swing’s creaking fill the gap of silence, then, “Thanks.”

 

Kyungsoo nodded and licked his dried lips before asking, “What’s wrong?”

 

Jongdae dug his heels into the wood chips.  “It’s so embarrassing,” he muttered, hand rubbing his face, now frowning.

 

“You haven’t even told us, how do you know if it’s really embarrassing?”  Jongin asked hand resting on Jongdae’s shoulder, “We both snuck out of our house for you, man.”

 

“If my mom caught me pass curfew I would be made into a cake,” Kyungsoo piped in.

 

“Yeah, and my dad would blast me off in his canon,” Jongin added.

 

“And my parents will, uh…. Well, they don’t care,” Jongdae snorted, then, a smile with his cheek full of ice cream.  “If I die, might as well take you guys with me.”

 

“Thank god, you’re smiling again, that’s the Jongdae we know,” Jongin grinned.

 

“What’s that suppose to mean?!”

 

“It means,” Kyungsoo began, “That seeing you depressed is _depressing_ for us.  We like you happy.”

 

A frivolous sigh, then his eyes glue back to the ground.  “I’ve just felt really antsy…. And it just snapped and I needed— _y’know_.”

 

“Emotional support?”  Kyungsoo asked.

 

“Cuddling bros?”  Jongin added.

 

Jongdae snapped his head up.  “No!  That’s…”

 

“Don’t worry, it’s not gay if we say no homo,” Jongin reassured.

 

“Funny thing is… I-I kind of _am_ gay,” muttered Jongdae, sentence softer than the rusted groan of the swings.

 

Jongin’s popsicle fell out of his mouth; squashed on the ground and forgotten.  “That’s not a funny thing.”

 

“Since when?!”  Kyungsoo piped in.

 

“Since… forever ago?”  Shrugged Jongdae, “Earliest memory was noticing how nice Minki’s ass was in middle school.”

 

“ _Minki?_ But he had a flat ass.”

 

“Exactly.”  Jongdae groaned whilst burying his face in his hands, flustered.  “I really like this guy from the swimming team—way more than I should—and it’s stressing me out.”

 

“Ask him out,” offered Jongin.

 

“Jongin, not everyone swings the other way.”

 

“But you don’t know if he does or doesn’t,” he countered, raising his head high he continued, “Love guru Jongin is here to help, darling, what can I do?”

 

“Please suppress my urge for him to hold me in his toned arms.”

 

“That was the softest thing I’ve ever heard from you.  Damn, you’re beyond saving.”

 

“Who is this mystery swooner, anyway?”  Asked Kyungsoo over Jongdae’s whine. 

 

“Kim Junmyeon,” Jongdae replied, lips twitching as if to suppress the smile caused by mentioning said man’s name.  “Do you know him?”

 

“Yeah, he’s a part of Baekhyun’s swimming unit.  Want me to ask him if he likes men?”

 

“That’s too straightforward!  Be subtle.”

 

“How does one causally ask another guy if they like guys?”

 

“If I knew then I wouldn’t be panicking in the middle of the night,” sighed Jongdae, “You don’t have to do it.”

 

“Oh, I’m doing it.  When things go well, invite me to your wedding—“ Jongdae’s punch left him grinning through sputters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

06

 

Another period of P.E in the pool was another survival test for Kyungsoo.  Like his stomach, his mind was filled with water; the waves being thoughts too riled to grasp.

 

“Need a hand?”  Baekhyun offered, smiled as Kyungsoo accepted, and pulled him out of the pool. 

 

Chanyeol ran by, halted beside Baekhyun, and whispered into the swim captain’s ear.  Most was inaudible to Kyungsoo, however, Chanyeol was not a good whisperer.

 

“Just do it!”

 

“What—?!  No!”

 

“C’mon, ask, you know you want to.”

 

“I’m going to kick y—“

 

“Good luck, captain!”  Snickering, Chanyeol continued his way to the change room.

 

“So, uh,” Baekhyun cleared his throat, “Craving for anything?”

 

“The sweet release from this class,” Kyungsoo joked.

 

Baekhyun laughed.  “What about something edible?”

 

Kyungsoo arched a brow.  “What are you aiming for, Byun?”

 

“Nothing!  I swear; cross my heart, hope to die, shove a cupcake in my eye.”

 

“It’s ‘shove a needle in my eye’.”

 

“But that would hurt and I’d be dead first, so there’s no point.”

 

“Alright, I believe you, maybe I could go for some ice cream,” said Kyungsoo.

 

“Sounds good to me.”  Baekhyun’s eyes strayed to the floor.  “…After ice cream, would you like to go swimming?  With the whole team, of course, not just me.”

 

“You’re asking an asthmatic person, that can’t endure more than ten seconds of physical activity, to go swimming,” deadpanned Kyungsoo.  Staring at Baekhyun’s pout, an idea paved way, and he continued, “You’re paying for the ice cream and hold responsibility if I drown.”

 

Like a switch, luminescent bulbs flickered on in Baekhyun’s eyes.  As if contagious, Kyungsoo couldn’t help but to feel enamoured by him—by the light.  “It’s a deal.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Cotton candy ice cream is disgusting,” muttered Kyungsoo while chewing on his plastic spoon.

 

“You’re disgusting,” Baekhyun retorted before pulling back his cup of a pink and purple galaxy.  “If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.”

 

“But my ice cream spilt!”

 

“And who’s fault was that?”

 

“Gravity’s,” Kyungsoo crossed his arms.  “It’s disgusting but edible, and I’m craving.”

 

Rolling his eyes, he nudged the cup in the cap between them, the armchairs supporting it.

 

Once making the stop, they stepped off the bus.  Kyungsoo dunked the empty ice cream cup into a nearby trash, then broke into a run, catching up to Baekhyun.

 

The suffocating chlorine of the pool and to be suited in his swim trunks only bought for P.E was the least his worries; the major being Kim Junmyeon.

 

“I’ll catch up, gotta’ do something,” he muttered to Baekhyun before trailing off to the edge of the pool where Junmyeon sat.

 

Kyungsoo recognized the swimming team as students from their school.  They took up half the pool, hanging out in the deep end with superior height.

 

“What brings you here, Kyungsoo?”  Junmyeon greeted with a smile, snapping his head back to the pool to scold at someone, “Zitao, heads up!  You’re going to crash into a little girl!”

 

“Thanks, mom!”  The swimmer surfaced from the water in an instance, “But I’m sure I could avoid that without warning.”

 

“Say that to your handful of victims next time, yeah?”  He scoffed as Zitao replied with a whine before diving back in. 

 

“And you’re not the swim captain?  You seem to have a leash on everyone better than Baekhyun does,” Kyungsoo remarked while watching the scene of Chanyeol and Sehun throwing Baekhyun into the pool unfold.  “I stand correct.”

 

“Thank you for thinking so, but Baekhyun really is the better captain,” Junmyeon chuckled, “All I can do is scold and hope they listen.  Him?  He knows how to direct everyone, encourage them, make the possible _impossible._ Well, only when he’s serious.”

 

“He’s almost never is—when I first met him I learned how shy he gets with strangers or people he didn’t like,” Kyungsoo said, his gaze adverted to his reflection in the crisp water, “Although, he turns a 180 in meet ups and matches.”

 

The images of Baekhyun angry flashed; one at the beach, the other in the convenience store.  It’s unsettling to realize how hard it is to trigger Baekhyun’s anger, more so when Kyungsoo’s managed to provoke it. 

 

Kyungsoo dipped his foot in the water, disrupting the image of his frown directed back at him.

 

“Yeah, and when he does it makes you go ‘ _woah!_ ’ because you’d never be ready to take it in, even if you mentally prepare.”  Junmyeon hummed, “I once doubted him.  Our previous swim captain really liked him; said he had potential, said he should be his replacement… I was jealous when he did become our next swim captain, thought it would be me and the old captain was joking around,” he shifted his gaze elsewhere, “We were at this pool when I was proved wrong.

 

“This place used to be Samezuka’s turf,” Junmyeon smiled and rolled his shoulders back.  “We wanted to share but Samezuka’s swim team are hot headed in one way or the other.  They challenged us to a speed race; if they won then we kick ourselves out and vice versa.  Baekhyun volunteered to be our representative.  Samezuka’s fastest swimmer was there, but the match ended faster than it took to start!  Baekhyun wiped the floor with that dude, I’ve never seen a freestyle faster.”

 

“I’ve noticed, he’s swift under the water.  Like a mermaid, maybe,” Kyungsoo agreed, “He’s got terrible stamina, though.”

 

“Yeah, he’s tried to build it up but he can’t stand long-term training.  On that day, he was so tired we carried him home off the bus,” Junmyeon snorted at the memory.  “Oh, sorry for rambling!  Wasn’t there something you wanted to talk about?”

 

“Yeah, almost forgot about it!”  Kyungsoo kicked his feet under the water, palms sweaty over the tiles.  “Okay, promise me not to interrupt it in any way.  So… uh, do you swing both ways?  Surf both ends of the seesaw?  Slide down and climb up the slide?  Sway—“

 

“Wait, Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon interrupted, “Are you asking if I… like guys?”

 

Kyungsoo exhaled his pent-up breath.  “Basically.”

 

“Uhm,” Junmyeon scratched the back of his head, face flushing.  “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, but I haven’t found anyone to make me feel that way…?”

 

“So, a yes?”

 

“Sure, let’s say that.  Why do you ask?”

 

“No reason!”  Kyungsoo sprung up, “Nice chat, Junmyeon, see you!”  With that, he scurried away to avoid the awkward mood.

 

“Kyungsoo!  Over here!”  Chanyeol beckoned.

 

Changing direction, he walked to the giant’s side.  “What?”

 

“You’re about to witness a blood battle; our two fastest gliding the tide to seize a singular victory!”

 

“Translation; a swimming contest to the end and back of the pool,” Minseok chimed in, grinning despite Chanyeol’s glare.

 

“Today’s the day I snag victory and kick you off the throne,” Zitao smirked while warming up, his toned limbs stretched like fluid water.

 

“Please, you’ve been wrong for the past few years challenging me,” Baekhyun scoffed, grin playing on his lips.

 

“Predators are patient before they snatch the prey, remember that, geezer,” sneered Zitao.

 

“I’m only a year older,” the swim captain reprimanded.  “Watch that pride of yours before I smack it outta’ your hands.”

 

“Depends if you can reach it.”

 

“Now you’re asking to be kicked in the shins!”  


“Are they always like this?”  Asked Kyungsoo, his answer being Chanyeol’s and Minseok’s synced nods.

 

“Get ready!  This is a freestyle so do whatever!”  Chanyeol instructed to which they followed.  “Ready… set… go!”  
  
They dived into the water, the large splash ricocheting off the walls of the silent natatorium, then came cheering.

 

“Zitao’s famous for being a super rookie,” said Minseok to Kyungsoo, “He moved here from Beijing this year and joined the team almost instantly.  The coach likes his competitive flare.”

 

“Really?”  Asked Kyungsoo.

 

“Iwatobi is known to have its handful of cheery goof-balls.  Samezuka’s the opposite.  It’s nice to see a hard-ass wilding on our side,” Minseok chuckled. 

 

“Don’t let his height and sharp look intimidate you,” Chanyeol added, “He’s a softy for children and has a taste in women’s fashion.”

 

“Don’t tell him we told you this.”

 

“He’d murder us with a staff if you do.”

 

“For real?”  Kyungsoo gaped before pointing at Zitao’s figure ripping apart the water, “He’s like a shark!”

 

“He’s got the temper and swims like one,” Chanyeol remarked, “Zitao’s more of a pufferfish, though.”

 

Baekhyun touched the wall first, beating Zitao by seconds.  Laughing, he got out of the pool, pulling the younger with him.  “The winner wins again.”

 

“I got a cramp halfway through,” Zitao muttered with a pout.  “I’ll get you next time, just you wait!”

 

“By then I’ll be in a wheelchair,” Baekhyun grinned, dodging Zitao’s jab before scurrying—almost tripping— to the protection of Chanyeol’s side. 

 

“I’ll handle the tyrant!”  Chanyeol declared before marching off. 

 

“That’s just an excuse to wrestle,” Minseok said.  “I’m going to watc—I mean stop them!  Ciao!”

 

“Man, that was tiring.  If I slowed down for a second, I would’ve lost.”  Baekhyun turned his head to Kyungsoo, “Having fun?”

 

“I haven’t even gone into the water; things are going better than expected,” Kyungsoo said, a smile winning the tug-of-war on his lips. 

 

Baekhyun hummed with a nod, foot tapping away at the tiles before stopping.  “Maybe we could change that,” a smirk slashed into his cheek, bone rattling to Kyungsoo.

 

Kyungsoo took a step back, hands raised into a defensive position, one that screamed ‘ _One step closer and I’ll punch you into oblivion!’_.  He began cursing Baekhyun’s minimal intellect once the swim captain wrapped his arms around his waist and hauled them both into the pool.

 

Water flooded his ears, blocking the noise around and his thoughts.  Baekhyun’s warm body pressed against his contrasted with the chilly water.  Panic had yet to pool in his lungs and instead dizziness plundered his mind.  In that moment, seconds disguised as hours.  Kyungsoo pried his sealed eyes open—the water stung, his vision a blur—but the sight of Baekhyun’s alarmed eyes trained on him was clear.  It shouldn’t have felt as if a hot coil sprung loose in his stomach, but it did.

 

Oxygen smacked his face as they emerged, Baekhyun let go once hoisting Kyungsoo onto the ledge.

 

“What the hell were you thinking?!”  Kyungsoo repeatedly knocked his knuckles atop of Baekhyun’s head.

 

“To be honest,” Baekhyun began, arms resting on the ledge, his chin sinking into the water.  “I wasn’t thinking at all.”

 

“I knew you’re dumb but not _this_ dumb.”

 

Baekhyun sunk nose deep into the water, muttering something which turned to gurgles and bubbles.

 

“If you’re going to apologize do it properly.”

 

Baekhyun sunk deeper into the pool, only the top of his head remained above water.

 

“Baekhyun, you can’t just sink away from the problem here.”

 

Baekhyun pushed himself from the water with his arms supported atop the ledge.  He leaned into Kyungsoo, breath hot against his soaked, cold shoulder.  “I’m sorry, okay?”

 

“It’s fine, but you’re too close,” Kyungsoo sputtered, pushing Baekhyun’s face away.  “I want to go to the hot tub,” he said, head turning to said place.  “That’s the only redeemable factor here.”

 

“The one with all the old people?”

 

“Yeah, the one with all the old people.”

 

“Then, let’s go!”  Baekhyun got out of the pool with Kyungsoo following.

 

The hot water tingled against Kyungsoo’s skin, seeping into his muscles like a massage.  “It feels good to hot-tub my problems away,” he sighed.  When gaining no response, he turned his head to find the latter pouting, eyes boring into the water.  “I told you, it’s fine.”

 

Baekhyun snapped his head to him, shocked at being read easily.  “You probably felt terrible when I threw us in, didn’t you?  Just like the first incident…”

 

“I felt calm—which is a first,” Kyungsoo admitted, “You’re feeling worse about it than me, so, stop that.  Let the hot tub whisk it away.”

 

“If the hot tub was that magical I’d live in it.  All I feel is sleepy,” Baekhyun chuckled.

 

“Go sleep, then,” Kyungsoo offered.  “You can use my shoulder as a pillow.”

 

“Th-There’s too many people here!”  Baekhyun’s face was either flushed from fluster or the tub’s heat.

 

“Who’s to watch us?  The old people?  Are you going to let old people hurt your self-esteem?”

 

“Putting it like that hurts my self-esteem, too,” Baekhyun whined but complied and nestled his head into the dip of Kyungsoo’s shoulder.  “You’re mean.”

 

Kyungsoo smiled, “I get that a lot.”

 

Baekhyun shifted in his place.  “What if they mistake us for… _y’know.”_

_“_ Mistake us for what?”  Kyungsoo prodded.

 

Baekhyun raised his hand to his mouth, eyes adverted, flustered.  “Do you really want me to say _it_?”

 

“What?  _Boyfriends?_ ”

 

“Y-Yeah,” Baekhyun waved him off.

 

“It’s just old people, they’ll forget.”

 

“What if they ask?  You’ll be the one talking—I’m already embarrassed enough.”

 

“Tell em’ ‘ _maybe_ ’,” Kyungsoo teased.

 

“Kyungsoo!”

 

“I’m kidding!”  He snorted, snickering as Baekhyun slapped his bicep.  “I’ll let them know we’re friends.”

 

“Under extreme circumstances,” Baekhyun reminded, snuggling into Kyungsoo’s side.

 

“You sure ‘bout getting close to me?”

 

Baekhyun’s shoulders stiffened, then he mumbled, “…I don’t see why not.”

 

“I’m scared you might overheat,” Kyungsoo stated, “My mom would freak.”

 

“Oh, you mean the heat—!?”  He waved him off, inched a bit away, then chuckled dryly, “Don’t worry, I really like and tolerate warmth.  I could bathe in lava and come out unscathed.” 

 

“If you end up dying because of this I’ll kill you,” Kyungsoo muttered, “We’ve got a party to throw tomorrow and _you_ have a mom to see again.”

 

Baekhyun hummed, conciseness lost to the drift of sleep through Kyungsoo’s sentence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**DOOMS DAE – Today 4:34 P.M**

>>what’s the jiggs my man??

 

**Kyungsoo – Today 5:23**

>>Sorry, just got out of the pool

>>Get ready to celebrate…

 

**DOOMS DAE – Today 5:24**

>>HOLDYYTBSHSS REALLY!!??????

>>hold my glass I need to wipe away these tears,,

 

**Kyungsoo – Today 5:26**

>>Please make a decent impression.

Smiling, Kyungsoo shoved his phone into his pocket and unlocked the stall.  The sudden crashing sound stopped him from opening the door.  Unless someone slipped on the wet tiles, he’s sure to be the last one out of the group here, but snickering followed.  In that case, there was a fight.  Swallowing his pent-up breath, he budged the door open to allow only his head to peak out.

 

Three guys zoned in on Baekhyun, the one in the middle held the swim captain against a wall. 

 

“God, you’re such an eyesore,” he snarled.

 

“Where’s Taewhi to save you?”  Another sneered, “Got tired of you and left?  I wouldn’t blame him—hey!  Look me in the eye, I’m talking to you!”

 

“Don’t bother, he’s too much of a pussy to even talk back,” the other remarked before trespassing his nose into Baekhyun’s vicinity, “Always hiding behind people, crawling all over of his lap like some pet, looking down on us because Taewhi carried your ass so high; I always hated that about you.”

 

“Anyone here?”  The one holding Baekhyun asked, shoving the swim captain back against the wall when he struggled. “Hold on, we’ll let you go, be patient.”

 

“Gunho, what the hell do you want?!”  Baekhyun rasped, hands attempting to pry the grasp off his shoulder.

 

“No one, we checked.”

 

“Good, I’ve been aching for this,” Gunho grinned and raised his arm to his side, curling the hand into a fist.  “I don’t want anything from you—what do you even have to offer, anyway?—I just need to knock some overdue sense into you.”

Three against one wasn’t a favourable situation, let alone three against two, but the gears in Kyungsoo’s head whirred on their own; his legs started to move, then his hands, and finally his emotions. 

He shoved past the two blocking the way and grabbed onto the wrist of Gunho’s raised hand.  “Let him go,” he demanded.

 

“The hell are you?”  Gunho spat at Kyungsoo.  “Stranger trying to play hero?  Listen, buddy, this is a personal matter.”

 

“I’m not a stranger,” Kyungsoo began and tightened his grip on Gunho’s wrist, the latter winced.  “I’m not asking you to let go, either,” he grabbed onto Gunho’s other wrist and pulled it away. 

 

Gunho yanked himself free, glowering at Kyungsoo. 

 

“Don’t ya’ know bout’ who ya’ protecting?”  One of the boys slurred, “The freak hooked up with _men_ to get some closure and a status he ain’t deserve.”

 

“Guys, captain is calling, get out there!”  A voice ordered.

 

“A close call, right?”  Gunho grinned and threw his hands behind his head.  Turning on his heel, he trotted out.  “Hopefully I don’t see you two again.”

 

“Thank god they left,” Kyungsoo sighed, eyes glued to the trio’s fading figures. “That was stressful.  Any longer and they’d wring me too.”

 

“Why… Why did you do that?”  Kyungsoo turned his head to Baekhyun; his head hunched over his shoulders and buried in his hands, his body’s strength waning as it slid against the wall.  His voice was quavering, wandering as an echo throughout the room.

 

Not sure how to confront Baekhyun like this, he kept his voice a soft level.  “They could’ve knocked your jaw out if I didn’t intervene.”

 

“But they could’ve—“

 

“Slug me too?  Yeah, that was the scariest risk to take, but I’d rather it me than you.”

 

Baekhyun shook his head.  “You should’ve let them hit me!  They would stop bothering me after that.”

 

“Are you crazy?!  If they did, then you’d turn into a punching bag!”  Kyungsoo exclaimed, “Guys like that are always hungry to prove a point with violence, they always want an opportunity to bite.  Don’t you know?!”

 

“No, I don’t know.”  Baekhyun dropped his hands down, eyes covered by his locks—Kyungsoo wanted to brush them away and see his eyes, but his hands wouldn’t budge from his side, twitching—with that, he stormed out.

 

“Hey!  We’re not done talking here!”  Kyungsoo chased after him.

 

“There’s nothing else to say,” Baekhyun spat back, voice alarming the people around them in the lobby. 

 

The words were like molten lava, burning Kyungsoo skin, leaving him glued in place as charred remains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baekhyun avoided him and sat a distance away beside Minseok on the bus.  Their inner circle—Minseok, Chanyeol, and Junmyeon—shot Baekhyun worried glances and Kyungsoo an understanding.  Without witnessing, Kyungsoo bet they already knew what transpired.  Not a word was spoken; it wasn’t as if they didn’t know what to say, rather, there was _nothing_ to say.

 

The bus, like a pail stuck with a bullet, became emptier.  Their numbers trickling like dominos and the wishes of a safe trip piled a heap.  Kyungsoo and Baekhyun were amongst the last.

 

Once they reach their stop, Baekhyun was the first to get off, furthering away from Kyungsoo’s grasp.

 

“Hold up!”  Kyungsoo ran after him after slugging his backpack over his shoulders.  “We need to talk,” he grabbed onto Baekhyun’s wrist.

 

Baekhyun yanked himself free, snarling, “There’s nothing to talk about!  Mind your business!”

 

“It _is_ my business since I got involved,” Kyungsoo retorted.  The sun’s glare reflected from the ocean was blinding, but in the middle of it all was Baekhyun.  Kyungsoo refused to look away and run, he couldn’t.  “Was what they said—”

 

“Yes!  What they said was true.  I had a _thing_ with the previous swim captain and because of him I got where I am now,” Baekhyun’s sudden pike in volume left him panting.  “Now that you know, don’t you find me disgusting?  A cheat?”

 

“No, I don’t.  You’re not any of those things.”  Baekhyun furrowed his brows, bewildered at his sentence.  “You got to where you are because you earned it, which had nothing to do with your past relationship.”

 

“How can I believe that when you don’t even know me?”  Baekhyun scoffed.

 

“Are you kidding?  You saying those things—believing the trash they tell you—means you know nothing about yourself,” Kyungsoo rebuked, his hands finding their way back to Baekhyun’s, unmoving. “Baekhyun, they only know what you’ve done, not who _you_ are.  Sure, I don’t know when you were born, your family issues, or what your goals are, but I’ve hung with you enough to know all of this; you’re a hella’ fast swimmer—at the relay you amazed me—and you’re a good leader, ask any of your teammates.”

 

Baekhyun stared at him with widened eyes, swimming in his irises were a layer of gloss, then he dropped his head down, rubbing his face with his free hand.

 

“Woah—!  D-Did I say something wrong?  Look at me so I know I didn’t screw up,” Kyungsoo sputtered.  Using his other hand, he caressed the latter’s cheek and lifted his face up.  The warmth of Baekhyun’s tears rolled down his hand, and with his thumb, Kyungsoo tried to wipe some off.

 

“I-I’m fine,” Baekhyun muttered, his words left them both smiling to an extend big and small.  “Thank you.”

 

Like a dam busted, Kyungsoo felt a waterfall gush out of his chest—something pent up broke free, a riled spark traveled throughout his body from his heart—but there was a rift; the separation from understanding and acceptance. 

 

For now, he shrugged it off.  “For what?  Making you feel better?” 

 

“No,” Baekhyun chuckled, “For getting to know me.”

 

The setting sun bathed Baekhyun a hue of tangerine, leaving specks of sun-kissed gold on his cheeks.  Realizing his hands still held Baekhyun’s cheek and hand, Kyungsoo dropped them back to his side, for reaching out for the sun would only burn him.

 

“Please, it’s the situation that made me learn more about the obnoxious puppy known as you,” teased Kyungsoo, snickering at Baekhyun’s pout.  “But I don’t regret it.”

 

“You don’t?”  Baekhyun raised a brow, following Kyungsoo’s start towards home.  “Not even a little bit?  Not a teensy, weensy, tiny, small, micro-sized—”

 

“If you keep pestering me I’ll have my doubts.”

 

Baekhyun grinned, “Looks like I won’t, then.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Baekhyun – Today at 10:32 P.M**

>>Hey

>>Is it okay if u can drop by for a visit?

 

Kyungsoo spent too long staring at the message; exiting and re-opening the messenger app, refreshing the page dozens of times, eyes scanning over the peculiar inscription.  Hoisting up the courage, his thumbs tapped the screen.  After minutes of devious rephrasing, he hit the sent button.

 

**Kyungsoo – Today at 10:36 P.M**

>>Something on your mind?

 

**Baekhyun – Today at 10:36 P.M**

>>sorta…

>>yes no maybe so?

>>but u dont have to come Its fine if u don’t want to

 

**Kyungsoo – Today at 10:37 P.M**

>>I’m coming over.

>>Rooftop?

 

**Baekhyun – Today at 10:38 P.M**

>>yeah..,

>>thanks

 

“Mom, I’m heading out!”  Kyungsoo shouted as he raced down the stairs and past the kitchen, almost bumping into Subin carrying a tray of cakes. 

 

“For what?”  His mother questioned by the counter.  “And this late?”

 

“For… stuff,” he answered, exiting the store after yelling, “It’s complicated, I’ll tell you later!”

 

“He’s nothing but trouble, huh?”  Subin jested after the bell above the exit stopped chiming.

 

“One day he grows out of crawling and the next he’s running away from me,” Mrs.Do sighed. 

 

“Aren’t you going to chase him?”  Subin asked while restocking the display.

 

“He’s been matching my steps for so long, it’s natural for him to surpass me,” another sigh, “Although, I feel like wherever he’s going is the right place—a place where he won’t need me.”

 

“Don’t be silly,” Subin reassured, smiling.  “He’s a mama’s boy at heart.”

 

“True, but I’m not too worried about it.  The biggest concern I have is my waning youth!”

 

“A cheesecake might fix that,” chuckled Subin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ocean breeze of the night brushed against Kyungsoo’s body as he navigated through the twist and turns of hung garments.  Finally, he found Baekhyun sitting affront the fencing, peering at the stars above.

 

“Of all the places to sit it had to be here?”  Kyungsoo huffed as he approached the swim captain.

 

“Watch your mouth, you’re on my turf, chump,” Baekhyun scolded without malice.  “Plus, this is my favourite spot.  What’s bad about it?”

 

“For starters; this is the spot I saw you five days ago, got mad, and spat at you.”

 

“Oh, yeah!  On that day, I was doing the laundry, enjoying the peace, and then you came and annihilated the crap outta’ it,” Baekhyun sighed at the memory, “Good times.”

 

“It sure was,” Kyungsoo deadpanned before sitting down beside Baekhyun.  He rubbed his arms, feeling the goosebumps graze his fingers. 

 

“Cold?”  Grinned Baekhyun, lopsided.

 

“As if you read my mind,” another deadpan.  “How can you even sit here with just shorts and a tee?”  
  
  
“Because the ocean breeze keeps my fighting spirit livid.”  Baekhyun stood up and detached a blanket from the wires.  He held one end and gave Kyungsoo the other.  “Here.”

 

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo murmured as he snuggled closer to Baekhyun under warm shield of the blanket.  “Okay, so what did you want to talk about?”

 

“Nothing in particular.  I’ve just been thinking about a lot of things.”  


“Why not write them to the ocean?  Isn’t that your thing?”

 

“True… but I wanted to try venting out my excessive issues to a person instead of a fish,” chuckled Baekhyun. 

 

“And you chose me, out of all your other buddies?”

 

“…Well, you were the closest, so…”

 

“Fine, fine.  Fire away, captain.”

 

“I’ve just been thinking about something that I shouldn’t—it never concerned me—but I can’t help it.  Like, it’s this jumble mess that I probably _should_ have been involved in.  That—That issue is my… dad," Baekhyun started before sighing in relief, “It’s good to get that out, although, realizing now I’m talking aloud about _this_ , it’s really embarrassing.”

 

“Don’t worry, dude, I’ve got dad issues too,” Kyungsoo heartened Baekhyun’s gnawing anxiousness.  “My parents used to fight a lot—it was my dad’s hot temper and my mom’s need for constant justification—so I would avoid going home.  He was the one to leave first.”

 

“It must’ve been hell.”

 

“Maybe, but I feel indifferent about it now since it’s been long.  My old man hasn’t contacted me since but I guess that’s for the better.  Marriages aren’t always perfect.”

 

“No kidding, it’s just a signed paper,” snorted Baekhyun, feeling elevated, he continued, “You’ve heard the rumours, haven’t you?  The ones about my mom being a nut job?”

 

“…Yeah.”  Kyungsoo followed Baekhyun’s shifted gaze leading to the night sky.  The black canvas was torn and slathered by watercolours of constellations and acrylic, milky waves. 

 

“It’s true my mom is struggling with her mental health, but I wouldn’t call her a nut job.  You probably connected the dots and assume my dad’s to blame; that’s half the truth.  She was already at the tipping point before I came out,” Baekhyun said, “When my dad died she fell off the edge.  That was when I was five.  Dad was like her glue, kept her together for the longest of times, and I feel like her situation now is my fault.”

 

Kyungsoo snapped his head to him.  “Baekhyun, that’s not—”

 

“It’s true,” interrupted Baekhyun, voice wavering, “If I had gotten to know my dad better I could’ve been able to take care of her like he did after his passing.  If _I_ had been a better son she’d be here and smiling.  She had supportive friends who did all they could, but what did I do?  I’m her son, the closest person to her, but she’s far from my reach—untouchable, and I can’t bear it.”

 

With the soft brush of his knuckles, Kyungsoo wiped away the first tear to roll against Baekhyun’s cheeks.  The gesture made the swim captain choke on a sob.  “Deep breaths, Baekhyun, deep breaths,” Kyungsoo whispered while caressing Baekhyun’s cheeks, thumbs rubbing away the droplets of moisture, “Don’t cry.  You look ugly when you do.”

 

“Gee, thanks,” chuckled Baekhyun between sniffs.  “Kyungsoo, I envy you a ton.  You’re so confident and straight-forward, you don’t freeze up and spend eons thinking about the next action to take or take no action at all.  You fight back on instinct and you live so care-free.”

 

“My life?  Carefree?  If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been struggling to survive P.E this whole month.  Plus, a lot of people would consider my actions hot-headed and reckless,” snorted Kyungsoo while withdrawing his hands back.  “But, Byun, you’re everything I could never be.  You’re a great leader and aren’t bound by asthma.  You could become super successful in the future.”

 

“Swimming makes me a great leader, and if you take away that then I’m just… Baekhyun,” he smiled, although, it was anything but joyous.  “You’ve got the freedom to do anything and leave this place, but me?  Not at all.  After graduation, I’m dropping my swimming career and staying here to look after my mom.  It’s the least I can do for her.”

 

Kyungsoo couldn’t make any objections, for he was in no position to do so.  After all, how could you tell a guy how to live his life when you’ve only know said guy for six days?  Yet, like a pail filled to the brim, words spilt.  “That’s what makes you so great,” Baekhyun furrowed his brows at that, eyes covered with a layer of sheen.  “You’re _Baekhyun_ ; the swimmer that would toss it away for his mom, the guy that rather be punched than punch,” Kyungsoo nudged Baekhyun’s shoulder, “A nut-job that can stand cotton candy ice cream—that’s _you_.”

 

“Thank you… Kyungsoo,” the words blended with the ocean breeze brushing against their faces.  “Anyway, that’s enough of my emo ranting,” smiled Baekhyun as he wiped away the last of his tears.  “Let’s talk about something else.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Not sure… maybe our love lives?”  Suggested Baekhyun.  “Mines is complicated, I guess, but regardless it’s Sahara levels dry.  You?”

 

“I guess something’s going on,” despite saying this, Kyungsoo was unsure, “I have this childhood crush on Subin.  Remember her from the bakery?”

 

“Yeah, she’s pretty,” Baekhyun commented, “How did this puppy-love begin?  I’m expecting a spicy backstory.”

 

“Yes, my crush developed when I was four is the spiciest of love stories,” Kyungsoo deadpanned, resisting to laugh with Baekhyun.  “It all started on a decently hot, spring afternoon…”

 

(Baekhyun sighed, long.  A grin on his face as he turned to Kyungsoo while folding the blanket.  “Thanks for putting up with me tonight… and the entire week.”

 

“Made your entire week?  What d—” Then it came to Kyungsoo; the emotions he felt before all this, the words he said—now foreign in his thoughts. 

 

‘- _and after this week I won't mention it.  I'll forget it, forget you, and forget our problem._ ’ 

 

But one week wasn’t enough for Kyungsoo, knowing everything now comes to nothing in two days, he wanted another a week, a month, a year, maybe longer—he just needed to say it.

 

“No problem,” was all he mustered, omitted in the puddle of scathed words.  Heart dropping at the sight of Baekhyun’s shoulders slumped, back now turned to Kyungsoo.)

 

 

 

 

 

07

 

Tomorrow came with Baekhyun’s mother return.  The party went as expected; mothers Kyungsoo weren’t familiar with gathered as they pampered and laughed with their friend.  They all jerked a tear as Baekhyun embraced his mother for the first time out of her hospital bed, tears rolling down both faces.  Occasionally, he would look up from his cup to chat, Baekhyun’s loud voice occupied with the crowd.

 

“Ah, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!  You’ve grown so much!”  A woman cooed, her jewelry clinking against each other as she swayed.  She pinched his cheek with glee, a contrast to his stifled dismay.

 

“Thank you, aunty…” _That has probably last seen me since I was born butt naked at the hospital._ Kyungsoo smiled, “enjoying the party?”

 

“Of course!  You guys put so much effort into it, I’m impressed.  The food is amazing.”

 

The party rocked on past sunset.  Kyungsoo stared at the television, a gameshow was airing but he wasn’t paying attention.  A tap on his shoulder snapped his back to reality.  He looked up to see Baekhyun.  A breath in, out, then a smile.  “What’s up?”

 

“I feel a bit stuffy,” Baekhyun whispered, “Come to the rooftop with me.”

 

Nodding, Kyungsoo called to his mom somewhere amid chattering ladies, “We’ll be back!” 

 

Baekhyun lead him to the rooftop, navigating towards the spot they were at last night.  “This is better,” Baekhyun sighed, “Keeping up with gossip tires you out, yeah?”

 

“Sorry, can’t relate—I wasn’t invited to the saucy clique,” Kyungsoo stated.

 

“You missed out on affairs, obnoxious neighbours, and love rumours,” Baekhyun wiggled his brows.

 

“The two actors from ‘Artichoke Hearts’ started dating?”

 

Baekhyun gawked, “How did you know?!”

 

“I have mind-reading and ultra sensory skills,” deadpanned Kyungsoo, snorting as Baekhyun’s jaw hung lower, “It’s called sitting a few inches from a dude and old woman literally yelling everything out of their mouths, and the internet exists, by the way.”

 

“All my expectations for you are now shattered.”

 

“What expectations?”

 

“Good point,” chuckled Baekhyun, the laughter died and his face fell, eyes adverted away from Kyungsoo.  “Can I tell you something?”

 

Kyungsoo nodded, watching as the lather of ember sunk and disappeared off Baekhyun’s frame, a curtain of navy blue rose from its ashes, drowning them in the deep sea filled with stars.

 

“I know tomorrow is when we seal the agreement.  You’ll forget about this—about me—or act like it, and we’ll go back to zero.  That’s what you wanted from the start and, knowing me, maybe you still do,” Baekhyun exhaled his pent breath, hands fiddling the hem of his shirt, trembling.  “But, Kyungsoo, I don’t want to forget about this week—I don’t think I _can_ because you’ve done so much for me.  So, today’s the day I can tell you this and it’ll mean something for a few hours.”

 

“Baekhyun, wha—what are you getting at?” Kyungsoo was unsure if he wanted the answer, face feeling aflame.  He was right beside Baekhyun, but the swim captain seemed so far away. 

 

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun turned to face him, the smile on his face was like the crescent moon born from the death of the sun.  “I like you.”

 

Silence bathed the atmosphere in black as the clouds blocked the moon.  The confession was hard to digest.  Thoughts were scathed in Kyungsoo’s mind as he tried to find a word to say, _anything_ to say would be better than nothing.  Once the skies cleared, Baekhyun’s face was vibrant under the moon’s glow—he was beautiful.  Kyungsoo opened his mouth and words left without thought.

 

"I-I… still like Subin," the rejection merely a whisper, the fencing dug into his back.  Albeit, the words felt foreign as they steered off his tongue, it didn't hold much worth in front of Baekhyun now, not that it mattered.

 

The excuse fell to his feet and, like a weed, Kyungsoo wanted nothing more than to crush it with his heel.  He'd always like the idea of her, not the idea of loving her, but the truth wouldn't fall from the tip of his tongue where it dangled, his throat now dry.

 

"I know," Baekhyun murmured, his hands gripped onto the fencing, encasing Kyungsoo between his arms.  He let his head fall onto the dip of Kyungsoo's shoulder.

 

"Baekhyun... It's just—I don't know if I can feel that way for you," Kyungsoo's hands rose to hold Baekhyun's sides, afraid the latter would slip out of his grasp.

 

Baekhyun's soft breath was hot against his shoulder, lips grazing the skin with patterns that would be akin to speaking—Kyungsoo shuddered at the touch—Baekhyun’s voice, lost within the fluttering blankets, left a warm aftermath of tingling against Kyungsoo's skin, the words remained, stained; _I know._

 

“Can we stay like this for a while?”  Baekhyun asked, unmoving.

 

Kyungsoo dug his teeth into his lip before whispering, “Okay.”

 

They stood there for a while until Baekhyun lifted his head up.  “Thank you,” he rasped.  Kyungsoo caught a glimpse of a sad smile before the latter turned around and left, figure engulfed by the hung garments.  His warmth lingered on Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

 

Kyungsoo was left with clenched fist, grains of a lost presence stuck to his fingertips.  It was as if the stars and moon crashed onto his shoulders.  The galaxy they used to gape at now at his feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

∞

 

In a span of a month, as if the thread connecting them were cut by scissors, there was a distance Kyungsoo came to terms with.  The other day Baekhyun was smiling, talking with him, teasing—the next day he became another face in the halls.

 

“It’s kinda’ funny,” Jongdae would remark while smiling down at text messages on his phone, ignoring Kyungsoo’s glare.  “Seems like fish blood kept to _your_ own words better than you.”

 

“If it weren’t for Junmyeon I’d feed your carcass to the dogs,” Kyungsoo would retort back.

 

“Thus, I am grateful for my man,” Jongdae smirked, blushing at his own sentence, much to Kyungsoo’s disgust.  “Just go talk to him, be rational, slam him against a wall like they do in dramas, make his heart pound.”

 

“That’s assault, not rationality, he might suffer from a heart attack.  Besides, ever since the swimming unit ended he’s been avoiding me; sharp u-turns, taking refuge behind his group of girls, using Chanyeol as a shield—it’s reidiculous,” Kyungsoo muttered the next words under his breath, “He confessed… but I’m the one feeling rejected…”

  
“That’s our fish blood for ya’,” snickered Jongdae as his fingers were sent as a barrage against his cracked screen—an intense round of cookie clicker. 

 

“Honestly… Does he really need to do this?  I wish I’d say something earlier if it was going to be like this.”

 

“I sense potential pining.”

 

“Pining?”  Kyungsoo furrowed his brows.

 

“Don’t think about it too much—it’s something you’ll be doing soon if this continues,” Jongdae leaned back, squinting his eyes at Kyungsoo.  “That’d be such an ugly thing to witness.”

 

“…I’m giving you ten seconds to apologize—“

 

And that would be the end of the topic.

 

Occasionally, Kyungsoo would replay the tape he recorded from the last swim meet he went to in his room, frowning at how it twisted his stomach into a hot coil.  He found himself pausing at the zoom in of Baekhyun’s smiling face, taking in the details he forgot existed before putting the tape away. 

 

“Are you pining again?”  Jongin peered over his shoulder, causing Kyungsoo to jump in place, smashing into the younger’s chin.

 

“Sorry, you okay?”  He asked as Jongin stumbled back.  “Do you even know what pining is?”

 

“Nope,” Jongin rubbed his chin. “Jongdae told me that’s what you’d doing when you look all upset and spaced out.”

 

“Tell him that’s nonsense!”  Kyungsoo said while giving Jongin the notes from today’s class and sending him off.

 

Sighing, Kyungsoo read the overdue messages on his phone.

 

**DOOMS DAE – Today at 4:56**

>>heyo can i ask u for a favor?

>>theres this swimming competition junmyeon wants me to come to and I said yes but i dont wanna go there by myself and look like a loser

>>so could u come w/ me? ill let u know the details

 

The awkwardness would be intolerable if he ran into Baekhyun.  Worst case scenario being talking to him after months of no exchange.  What could he to Baekhyun in a situation like that.  “ _Hey, I know I expressed how much I hated your guts in the beginning, but after the week I realized that I don’t hate your guts that much and want to contact you_ ”?  But there was Baekhyun’s reaction to consider, making Kyungsoo reconsidered his words.  Amidst the war of words in his brain, his fingers went to work at the screen without thought.

 

**Kyungsoo – Today at 5:00**

>>Okay.

 

**DOOMS DAY – Today at 5:01**

>>TYSM U SAVED MY ASS

>>I OWE U ONE

 

“Hell yeah, you do,” snorted Kyungsoo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Thanks so much for coming!”  Junmyeon greeted them at the entrance of the building where the tournament was held, giving Jongdae a tight hug.  He turned to Kyungsoo who stood between their lover’s quarrel.  “You want a hug, too?”

 

“I’ll pass,” replied Kyungsoo.  “Jongdae’s pride is on the line, it’s strict duty not to interfere.”

 

Jongdae scoffed, rambling a sentence that didn’t make sense before stomping through the doors.

 

“Really, thanks for coming.”  Junmyeon walked alongside Kyungsoo.  “…I was the one that asked Jongdae to persuade you.  If you feel uncomfortable being here, then I’m to blame.”

 

“No, you’re not,” smiled Kyungsoo, for the downcast look on Junmyeon’s face didn’t fit.  “I chose to come here.”

 

“Then… is it alright if I ask you for one more favour?”  Junmyeon looked up to face him.  “Baekhyun… I’m worried about him.  I don’t know what happened but since a few months ago he’s been unfocused and he won’t tell us why.  When we ask about you he dodges the topic.”

 

“Don’t worry,” said Kyungsoo, “I came for that, too.”

 

That’s what he intended, but stepping into the natatorium was like being engulfed into a whale’s mouth.  If given the chance, what would he say?  What could he say?  Memories of the rooftop confession swirled in his mind as he found a spectator’s seat next to Jongdae.  The words said clashed with the ones unsaid, bloody confusion dripping off its rusted blade.  Standing atop the mumbling mountain, a question struck him; _what did I want to say?_

 

“Welcome to the Golden Guppy; the medley relay tournament where schools all over the region swim for gold!”  The announcer began, the rest white noise to Kyungsoo’s ears.

 

“Can we leave after Junmyeon’s done?  He’s first to go,” said Jongdae.

 

“It’s just one hundred meters each, you can sit through it,” responded Kyungsoo.

 

“But look how many men—in tight spandex, may I remind you—there are!  This might take eons depending on the loser!”

 

“You’d be surprised.”

 

The first whistle’s chime interrupted their conversations, and like a puppeteer’s strings it guided the backstroke swimmers to submerge into the pool and surface clinging onto the wall.  Another whistle signalled them to push off, the water blanketed their bodies as they dolphin kicked, surfacing with the backstroke.  Junmyeon settled with his strategy, however, the swimmer beside him made consistent, clean cuts, resulting in finishing with the last half.  After touching the wall, water was sent flying from the thunderous roar of the Chanyeol’s dive.  Chanyeol started off strong to catch up, his every stroke powered by determination’s push, capturing and holding the lead midway through the swim back.  The swimmer beside him challenged Chanyeol’s power, ripping through the water and stealing the lead with a last-minute spurt. 

 

Once Chanyeol touched the wall, Minseok dived in, picking up the pace to recapture the lead.  Even though everything was happening right in front, Kyungsoo couldn’t pry his eyes away from the sidelined where Baekhyun prepared.  Junmyeon was right; in this important moment, they’d been training for the flame of the swim captain’s spirit faded, mind elsewhere, and he was aware of this—Baekhyun was aware, but did nothing to stop his unhinged figure.  But Baekhyun swam like a strong current, with or without motivation there shouldn’t be a problem.  Though, Kyungsoo couldn’t help but feel his chest ache, knowing this was _his_ fault.

 

Just before Minseok, right behind the lead, were to touch the wall, the muscles in Kyungsoo’s legs shot him up from his seat like a loose spring.  Before he knew it, his hands were raised to his mouth, words forming to yell, “BAEKHYUN!  DO YOUR BEST!”

 

First came a warm feeling, like a firework set off in his chest, as Baekhyun turned to loom at him with widened eyes, jaw slacked.  Then came embarrassment as everyone else in the room turned to him too.  Jongdae came to the rescue, pulling him back to his seat and whisper-shouting, “If you were planning to do that you should’ve gave me a heads up to sit elsewhere!  Now I feel more embarrassed than I would have going alone!”

 

Kyungsoo buried his face into his hands, face flushed.  “I didn’t plan that.  It—It just happened…?”

 

“What?!”

 

Too embarrassed to look up, Kyungsoo missed the smile on Baekhyun’s face, washed away with the water from his dive.

 

 

 

 

 

Samezuka won the Gold Guppy thanks to Baekhyun recapturing the lead.  The whole team cheered, relieved at their captain’s restored spirit. 

 

“Just wait with me until Junmyeon comes out,” Jongdae urged while clinging onto Kyungsoo, causing a bystander head turning ruckus, and if it weren’t for the fact that Kyungsoo also intended to stat, Jongdae would be long abandoned in cold blood.

 

Junmyeon was the first to come out changed.  He embraced Jongdae into a post-victory hug which lasted a full 360 turn on spot. 

 

“Now I wish I didn’t make this relationship possible,” Kyungsoo gagged at the PDA—it burned his eyes, _burned._

“Too bad, so sad, suck me a fat one,” Jongdae stuck his tongue at Kyungsoo.  “Anyway, we’re leaving, you coming with?”  To which Kyungsoo shook his head.

 

“Baekhyun’ll come out last, hang tight,” Junmyeon said before waving, “And thank you for bringing our captain back!”

 

Kyungsoo smiled, bitter, knowing he was the one to lose Baekhyun in the first place.  Junmyeon was right to say Baekhyun would come out last, but as swimmers left one by one it was clear that Baekhyun was stalling an hour, hoping Kyungsoo would have left the premise.  By the half an hour mark Kyungsoo was ready to storm in there and drag the swim captain out.

 

That was until he finally appeared, frozen in spot once noticing Kyungsoo.  “…What are you doing here?”  Baekhyun asked, a death grip on his duffle bag as his eyes skittered from Kyungsoo to the exit, as if deciding whether to make a beeline out.

 

“I’m hear talk to you,” the response caused Baekhyun to step back, bottom lip taken by his teeth.

 

“I have nothing to say to you,” said Baekhyun before walking past Kyungsoo, to which he stopped the swim captain with a grip on his arm. 

 

“But I have a lot to say and you’re going to hear it no matter what.”  Kyungsoo loosened his grip after realizing how still the latter was in his grasp, Baekhyun’s skin was warm against his fingertips, Kyungsoo forgot how much he missed this warmth.

 

“Let’s catch the bus first.”  Baekhyun withdrew his arm.  “Five minutes, that’s it.”

 

 

 

 

 

Silence loomed over them on their bus ride back for it had been contemplation slitting their throats.  The floral adorned field passing by had never looked so dull with Baekhyun sitting in front of the view.

 

Kyungsoo shook the mirage of an imagination off, flustered at his own perception.  He made it this far, this close to tying loose ends, a few steps from the truth.  _I can’t fall short_ , the thought bounced off the corridors of his mind, stealing a glimpse of Baekhyun’s slumped figure he held tight to that belief, _I can’t._

 

Once they got off the stop, he began, “I’ve been thinking a lot after what happened on the rooftop.  My mom asks a lot about you—sometimes I run into your mom at the market and we chat—but I can’t say much because of this distance.  I just…—Hey!  Where are you going?!”

 

Not even finished, Baekhyun’s back faced him, walking away.  The steady pace Kyungsoo followed picked up and soon it turned to running.

 

“Stop running and get back here!  It hasn’t even been five minutes!”  Kyungsoo shouted, chasing after him, his next words lathered with heavy pants.  “Dammit, Baekhyun, you know I can’t run after you!”  The snaring pain in his lungs unbearable, he stopped running, heaving away with the waves gushing against the rocks on the coastline.  “Is it too much of a shame that I still want to talk to you?!”  He yelled, exasperated, Baekhyun’s an arm away, “I’m sorry!”

 

Baekhyun halted in his tracks, with his heel dug in the ground he turned around.  “What are you even sorry about?”

 

Those words may had triggered a storm as droplets started falling from the grey sky infected with clouds, the potency growing until rain pelted against their bodies.

 

“Hating your guts and making you feel like trash, not even thinking about what happened to your life after I left it, and not being able to patch things up sooner!”  Kyungsoo gasped for air, a waft of salt accompanied the intake.  “I might’ve been the worse thing that has happened to you.”

 

“You were the best thing that happened to me.”  Baekhyun’s smile faded quick, leaving his features with its ghost.  “But do you even know what you’re doing?  You’re inviting a guy, who had feelings for you—who _still_ has feelings for you back into your life.  Don’t you find that disgusting?”

 

“No, I don’t because…”  Heat pulsing in his ears, traveling to his face, might as well turn the rain traveling down his face into steam.  “Could you… come here for a second?”

 

Hesitating, Baekhyun complied.  Once in his vicinity, Kyungsoo held the swim captain’s shoulders and pulled him in to slot their lips together.  It was a short kiss with Kyungsoo pulling away in case it was unwilling on Baekhyun’s end. 

 

“Does that explain it?”  Asked Kyungsoo, stifling a snort as Baekhyun’s skin flushed despite his indifferent face.

 

Baekhyun raised his hand to pad his lips, eyes locked on Kyungsoo’s.  “Can… Can you explain to me again?”

 

With a frivolous eye roll, Kyungsoo closed the gap and fit their lips back together, the difference being Baekhyun’s dominance—demanding yet gentle—in capturing Kyungsoo’s top lip, humming as his hands found way to holding Kyungsoo’s waist.  Rain found way to blend in, leading the kiss to a salty end, but they only parted to take a breather.  Kyungsoo caught a glimpse of Baekhyun’s wide smile before being encased in his embrace, their slick bodies meshing together.

 

“Baekhyun, you can do this whenever but please not in the rain.  You feel disgusting,” said Kyungsoo as he jabbed a finger into Baekhyun’s side.

 

“’m sorry,” Baekhyun chuckled against his shoulder while squirming, making the matters worse.  “But I’m happy right now—let me have this?”

 

Sighing, Kyungsoo let his guard down, arms slinking around Baekhyun’s body, a light grip, knowing Baekhyun wouldn’t slip away this time.  “Sure.”

 

 

—END

 

**Author's Note:**

> -I tried to do justice in the swimming aspect that this prompt offered but apologies in advanced;;  
> -Minseok's butterfly stroke technique is based off of Micheal Phelps who's also double-jointed  
> -Iwatobi and Samezuka are schools from Free!  
> -Medley relay requires four swimmers. The first swimmer does backstroke, second breaststroke, third butterfly stroke, and last freestyle (many opt for front crawl). The winning team has the fastest completion time.


End file.
